


Hostage | J2 AU NC-17

by fufaraw (arliss)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: A/B/O, Heats, J2, M/M, Mpreg, Rape, Slavery, dub-con, hurt!Jared, kidnap, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4407656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arliss/pseuds/fufaraw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared has always gotten his regular omega checkups, and he takes his inhibitors like clockwork. He's devoted to his friends and his family, but he's passionate about archeology and dedicated to his career. He's got neither time nor interest for a romantic relationship, much less a mate, and he definitely doesn't want kids. He's working as TA for Dr. Omundson, head of Knox University's archeology department, while he finishes his Master's degree. Jared jumped at the chance to join the dig, but omegas in Rirajistan are rigidly traditional, so Jared agrees to wear Omundson's collar while in-country. The collar is just the visible sign that Jared's under the Doc's protection and responsibility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [ **HOSTAGE**](http://fufaraw.livejournal.com/91948.html)  
>  **Fic title:** [Hostage](http://fufaraw.livejournal.com/91948.html)  
>  **Author:** [](http://fufaraw.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://fufaraw.livejournal.com/)**fufaraw**  
>  **Artist:**[](http://chomaisky.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://chomaisky.livejournal.com/) **chomaisky**  
>  **Genre:** RPS AU  
>  **Pairing:** Jared/Jensen  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Word count:** 46k  
>  **Warnings:** A/B/O, noncon, dub-con, kidnap, rape, MPREG, hurt!Jared, heats  
>  **Written for:** [](http://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com/profile)[**spn_j2_bigbang**](http://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com/) [](http://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com)**2015**  
>  **Summary:** Jared has always gotten his regular omega checkups, and he takes his inhibitors like clockwork. He's devoted to his friends and his family, but he's passionate about archeology and dedicated to his career. He's got neither time nor interest for a romantic relationship, much less a mate, and he definitely doesn't want kids. He's working as TA for Dr. Omundson, head of Knox University's archeology department, while he finishes his Master's degree. Jared jumped at the chance to join the dig, but omegas in Rirajistan are rigidly traditional, so Jared agrees to wear Omundson's collar while in-country. The collar is just the visible sign that Jared's under the Doc's protection and responsibility.
> 
> While working in the baking sun at the remote desert site, Jared falls under the covetous eye of the local chieftain, a very traditional alpha. Omundson’s collar won't prevent Jensen’s plan to bring Jared into his harem. Betrayed, Jared is given no choice but to adapt to a different path for his life and learn to survive. Jensen has to learn that having something doesn’t always mean getting what you want.

  
  


[ Beautiful ePub cover by [](http://chomaisky.livejournal.com/profile) **chomaisky**  ]

 

 

** **

 

The ruins had always been there, everyone knew about them. Jensen's forefathers had always been responsible for the area, though the land around them wasn't owned or used by anybody. The road that had once led to the ruined town had been eroded by disuse and the desert, and the ruins were too far outside the nearest village for children to hide and play there. Remote and lonely, it was a place of the dead, long dead and gone so long as to be lost to memory. Better to let whatever spirits that might cling to the place lie in peace.

Jensen had ridden past on a few moonlit nights, and idly thought it might be fun to bring someone there to make love beneath that moon, pleasantly shivery and arousing. But that was only foolishness. Such an experience would be far too frightening for an omega, and besides, the ground was rough and cold. He could much more easily make love to a pretty omega beneath that same moon in his own garden, on soft grass, among the fragrances of many blossoms.

So the ruins had lain undisturbed, sifted over with the true sands of time. It was with surprise, some resentment, and a sense of intrusion that Jensen received word from Rirajistan's king that an expedition from an American university had been granted a three month period to study the ruins, to take pictures and collect artifacts. Those artifacts would be carefully excavated and examined, and the lion's share would go to government museums and Rirajistan's University in the capital city of Andawar, for the history and archeology departments, and for the university's own museum. Some pieces would be given to museums in other countries to whom Rirajistan or the king owed favors. And some few pieces would travel with the expedition back to the states and their university there.

Jensen wasn't sure how he felt about desecration by foreigners of the grounds within his care, but, after a few days' thought, and becoming accustomed to the idea, it seemed a good thing to learn about the history and times of the people who came before. As long as it was done with reverence and care, he could respect the effort, especially since very few artifacts would be leaving the country. The great majority of research would be done here in Rirajistan, by scientists and historians whose culture came from the same history as his own. And native researchers and authorities would have final say over which pieces would be allowed to leave the country. Jensen himself would oversee and supervise the care with which the digging and removal and cataloguing took place, to make sure proper respect was paid at all stages of the excavation.

As khan, Jensen was also responsible for the efficient function of the expedition's food, water, and other necessary supplies, as well as for any altercations or misunderstandings between members of the expedition and his own people, both for keeping peace, and for seeing that the work went ahead unhindered, so far as humanly possible. He wasn't at all sure how fit he was for diplomacy, but his lands were remote from Andawar and the country's usual sources of wealth and power. It wasn't often that his family had been called upon to prove their worth and loyalty, so Jensen would perform his duty, to his best ability.

He and seven of his guards were on hand, Tahmoh, his personal guard, at his side, when the expedition trucks rolled up to the dig site. He introduced himself briefly to Dr. Omundson, the expedition leader, then instructed the six beta guards to help with erecting tents and laying out the campsite. He found a vantage point to watch from, Tahmoh nearby, and began to note the sort of eager efficiency among the expedition members, and how quickly they unpacked and settled in. All of them cast speculative, longing glances at the dig site, mere meters from the camp. But everyone immediately went about getting camp set up, as comfortable as possible, and lending a hand to each other when needed.

By the time the sun was kissing the horizon, dinner was cooking over well-tended fires, and Jensen and his guards had been asked to stay and dine. With a nod, he agreed. Dark had fallen and the first stars were out when Jensen and his men took their leave, after inviting Dr. Omundson and two members of his choosing from the expedition to dinner at the khan's palace, the next evening .

Jensen stopped by the next day for his men to help, and for Jensen to watch the dig settle into the preliminaries for excavation: taking measurements with surveyors' equipment, laying out lines, marking points along those lines, and at their junctures. An air of expectant excitement hung over the dig, and it was contagious. Jensen's guards were engaged, with earnest attempts at communication in language and gesture. Even Tahmoh, at Jensen's nod, had moved to help set up a rope framework for a heavy tarp to shade part of the site from the sun. With proceedings well begun, Jensen and his men took their leave in the afternoon. He wanted to get back and check on preparations for that evening's dinner.

When the group arrived and introduced themselves, Jensen was surprised to learn that both Omundson's companions were betas. Professor McNally and Dr. Beaver taught ancient history and anthropology, respectively, at Knox University, where Dr. Omundson, an alpha, was head of the archeology department. The men seemed to pay no special deference towards Omundson, a charming, rather flamboyant personality who enjoyed talking about his life and his exploits. The other two were clearly intelligent, accomplished, and respected in their own right. Jensen enjoyed their company, particularly Dr. Omundson's. They showed evident appreciation for the hospitality, complimenting the food and drink, and staying for cigars and brandy over a game of cards after dessert. Dr. Beaver lost a bit, but he was philosophical about it, and the men left soon afterward, saying they needed to be in camp early, to get to work on the dig before the day became too hot.

After the initial settling in, Jensen made a point of continuing to visit the camp twice a week or so, to make sure things were running well, and that nothing hindered the exploration of the ruins. He instituted a rotation for his beta guards, half a dozen of them daily to make themselves useful around the dig site, to lend help if anyone needed a stone lifted, poles set or a tarp stretched between them for shade, or to support a fragile item at an awkward angle until the sand could be brushed away to free it, intact. They were also to keep an eye out and tell Jensen of any problems or disagreements they couldn't manage themselves.

He and Tahmoh visited again, going deeper into the dig, greeting those he had met before, watching as Dr. Beaver knelt, almost reverently, and used a soft-bristled brush to clear the dust from a shard of pottery before freeing it from its resting place. Such painstaking care was often rewarded by another shard, or some other object entirely, bedded beneath the freed shard. Jensen was impressed by the patience and infinite care these people took with the fragments they worked so hard to uncover, pieces of his history, and not their own.

There were several earnest young students, diligently keeping busy, among the staff at the dig, including a tall young man who most often carried a camera. Jensen noticed him frequently contorting himself into impossible postures to catch an object _in situ_ from the perfect angle, in the perfect light, before the worker gently freed it from the earth and laid it aside, where the student would take more photos.

Jensen's gaze often followed the young man as he went about his work, though he seemed unaware of Jensen's notice. He was usually focused on his current task, a slight smile on his face and a friendly word as he stooped to frame an artifact perfectly before pressing the shutter, then shifting his perspective minutely before clicking again, several times. Jensen watched as the student checked the shots he had, before moving on to where someone else was working, to photograph the stages of a nearly whole pottery vessel being gently excavated, or standing back and framing a group of students and their professor, working carefully at a six foot section of wall that had once been an interior room.

Taller than Jensen, than Tahmoh, than, apparently, everyone on the dig, the young man moved with a careful grace and economy that Jensen couldn't help admiring. Dressed like everyone else in boots, a loose t-shirt, and cargo shorts, the young man's skin was usually beaded with sweat that streaked a light coating of the fine dust that hovered everywhere in the air over the dig. Beneath the dust, his skin flushed in the heat of the day, and his brown hair, damp with sweat, curled at the back of his neck.

The young man seemed courteous and friendly with everyone, even occasionally sharing a ready laugh at some joke. But he was dedicated to his task, and when not engaged in conversation, his expression was focused and serious. Jensen could almost hear the wheels in his head turning across the distance between them.

He asked Omundson about him one evening after dinner, when they were lingering over brandy and cigars. "Tall? Camera in his hands most of the time? That's Jared," Omundson smiled. "He's a grad student," he continued. "Working on his master's degree. He's also my teaching assistant and, frankly, I couldn't get anything done without him."

Omundson took another draw on his cigar and exhaled, luxuriously. "He's quick, intelligent, and a real hard worker," the doctor smiled. "I'm glad I could bring him along on this trip."

Jensen sipped his brandy and filed the information away.

* * *

 

Jared sifted carefully through the pictures on his hard drive, comparing them to the master grid map, making sure each photo had a grid number location where it was taken, or where the item featured in each photo had been found. Each photo was dated and had a brief description, or best guess, of what the uncovered article had been used for.

Finished with the last of those, he moved on to label and organize the latest batch, photos of each layer of the crates as he and the other members of the group had spent the past week packing them carefully with fragile pottery, jewelry fragments, carvings, and other artifacts. Staffers from Rirajistan's Department of Antiquities had attended and checked each crate, marking the destination of each one: The National Museum, The Andawar University Archeology Department, and Archeology and Antiquities Departments of various universities, both in-country and abroad. The last two crates, smaller than the others, that Jared's group would personally shepherd along their trip back to the states and Knox University, bore more fragments than whole pieces. That was no more than to be expected, really. The Knox U Archeology and Anthropology Departments counted themselves lucky to have been permitted to dig here at all, given the very insular nature of the country, and of the Umara region in particular. To have earned even fragments of their findings to take back for extended study was exciting.

The generator hummed reassuringly outside the tent, and as he finished labeling each batch of photos, Jared transferred it to the external drive for storage, as well as saving a copy to his personal flash drive. They had uncovered some promising things in the last few weeks, and he was pleased to see how clear almost all of the photos were.

The local chieftain had stopped by again today to observe the work, as he had often done since their arrival and during their stay here. His guards trod carefully inside the dig's perimeter, offering help where it might be needed. The chieftain's visits had become more frequent as the deadline on their work permit approached. He spoke mainly with Dr. Omundson, as head of the dig, though he did exchange greetings with the other professors and faculty, especially those who had been invited to dinner at his palace during their stay. Students like himself, Jared inferred from the lack of invitation, were well below the chieftain's regard — though he had felt that hooded gaze on him and what he was doing more than once, in these past few weeks. The chieftain exchanged a curt comment or asked a question of one or another of the local workers from time to time. He was always answered with respect, Jared noticed, but no sign of fear. But though Jared had met those vivid green eyes once, in the shade of a tarp strung across an unearthed room, they had never spoken directly to each other.

Omundson was off now, at the chieftain's invitation for a last evening of dinner, drinks, and cards. In truth, Dr. O had spent most evenings at the palace, frequently with one or more of the other faculty. The card games and hospitality ran late, Jared knew, because they often stayed the night, returning to the dig by midmorning. Dr. O had gone by himself tonight, though, the other professors were spending their last evening at the dig. Jared had joined them for dinner, and for a little while afterward, storing up the last memories of this experience. But he didn't mind spending his last night at the dig alone. He had his backpack and duffel already packed, except for his laptop, his toiletries, and a change of clean clothes for traveling tomorrow. Most of Dr. O's things were also packed and ready for the morning, to be loaded onto the trucks that would take the group, their luggage, and their precious crates into the city, arriving by late afternoon. They would all spend the night at the Royal Andawar Hotel. Jared was sure he wasn't the only one looking forward to luxurious deep baths and soft beds, after weeks of bucket baths and makeshift showers, cots, and bedrolls. There might be time tomorrow evening for a little sightseeing after dinner, but very early the following morning, the crates would be loaded aboard their flight back to the states.

As glad as Jared would be to get home, he was very grateful for the chance Omundson had offered him to be a part of this dig. As Omundson's TA, Jared handled Dr. O's class schedules, course planning, even delivering lectures when Dr. O was away making friends and contacts for the department, campaigning for more funding, for expeditions like this one, for example. Omundson often complained to Jared, in the privacy of his office, that he spent more time politicking than teaching, these days. Jared was not fooled, though. He heard the self-satisfaction behind the protests, and knew Omundson enjoyed the travel and the schmoozing required of him as Head of Knox U's Archeology Department.

That was fine. Jared was glad of the chance to pick up the lectures in Dr. O's absence. It gave him experience in teaching, in fielding questions, and was an invaluable help, wherever Jared's own career might lead. Jared did one-on-one student advising and course counseling, as well as keeping abreast of the latest news and discoveries in global archeology. And as a grad student working on his master's degree in the field, Jared had more than qualified to join this expedition.

The only thing that might have prevented his inclusion was that Jared was an omega.

 

Jared had known how he would present, even before puberty. He had read everything he could get his hands on, had urged his parents to find him more information than he could claim on his own, and they spoke to local librarians, giving permission for him to access as much information on gender and sexual assignment as was available. An analytical thinker, even as a child, Jared rejected the traditional role of omega before it became a physical reality for him. His parents arranged exams and interviews with necessary doctors and psychologists, and everyone agreed: Jared was, somewhat atypically, intellectually gifted. He showed none of the conventional omega aptitude or interest in the domestic arts, in flirtation or finding a mate, or in children, but he was singularly determined and focused on study and academics. After discussions with Jared, and among themselves, several experts in the field of omega mental and physical health agreed, there was no indication that his outlook would change as he physically matured. With the approval of his health advisors and his family, Jared was put on a course of heat inhibitors. Unlike suppressors, inhibitor drugs didn't prevent puberty, they simply arrested his heat cycle, and would continue to do so as long as he took them. Also unlike suppressors, inhibitors were completely physically safe, even used for extended periods.

Jared was free to pursue his academic interests and desires without the interference of omega hormones, or the development of characteristic physical and emotional traits. And he pursued them with a joy in learning and discovery that his fellow students and his teachers found occasionally inspiring and annoying, in about equal measure. So there was every reason why Omundson should include him in this expedition — every reason except for one.

Though most countries had relaxed, to some degree, their traditional expectations, Rirajistan was a rigidly traditional country when it came to reproductive assignment. The capital, Andawar, and its surroundings, were considerably less rigid than the country as a whole. But the location where the expedition would be digging was in the Umara region, far from the urbane, cosmopolitan city. In Umara, conventional roles were strictly observed and maintained. For Jared to travel and work in Umara, he needed the protection of an alpha. So, as much as he despised the convention, Jared agreed to appear to be Dr. Omundson's omega mate.

He fingered the medallion that hung at the notch of his collarbones. Bronze, it had been cast with the relief of a sword's point, and incised over that was the Norse rune, "algiz," both symbols for the Omundson house motto, "Protection." It was a masculine, rather attractive medal, and it hung from a thick leather thong, looking very much like a necklace that might be worn by any student. Jared sneered inwardly at the images of "collar" he knew most people held, and was grateful, again, that Omundson had been content with the simpler alternative. Dr. Omundson's ruse had been useful to them both: Jared got to marinate in the experience of the dig, long days in the dusty sun, examining, documenting, and photographing every item the group unearthed, making copious notes, both for the department and for his master's thesis. While he did the lion's share of the doctor's scutwork, Dr. O was free to supervise the group, and spend most of his time meeting with Rirajistani academics, to further diplomatic and scholastic ties. Many of those meetings took place under the hospitality of Umara's khan, his title translating closer to "chieftain" than to "king" or any title Jared could think of. The chieftain's palace, small, by Rirajistan standards, but pleasant-seeming, was white stone, surrounded by the green of mature trees that shaded the grounds hidden by high walls. Flower beds flowed from tree to tree at the foot of the wall, and though the palace was small, compared to the ones Jared had seen in photographs, it pleased the eye.

Jared had seen it from a distance as their jeep traveled to the closest village for food and other supplies. The rank of guards posted at the gate and at intervals along the wall discouraged closer approach by tourists — especially an unaccompanied omega. But Dr. O had spent much time there, frequently staying overnight after an evening of the khan's hospitality — which included a well-stocked wine cellar.

Jared finished his work, made his backups and stored both his laptop and his flash drive in his backpack, checking that his phone was still there in its padded pocket. It didn't work here, of course, but it might in Andawar, and if not, he'd have it as soon as he touched down in the states. He tucked the external drive into Dr. Omundson's case. He left out a change of clothes and his toiletries, stepped outside to brush his teeth, then, screened by the tent, stripped to take a hasty bath in the bucket of cold water he'd fetched earlier for that purpose. Finally, he crawled into his cot, expecting Dr. O to breeze into the tent in the morning, well-fed, well-rested, and eager to finalize the packing and get on the road to Andawar.

 

* * *

Jensen was at the dig again, watching as the work progressed one afternoon, and realized his gaze kept finding the tall student with the camera. He had idly wondered a few times over the weeks the expedition had been working here, why it was he was so drawn to this boy. What kept his eye roving the dig site until he found him, and what made his gaze return to him again and again?

Instructing Tahmoh with a glance to stay where he was, Jensen walked toward the shallow pit where Jared crouched awkwardly to get the correct angle on some half-unearthed artifact. He was working under a tarp strung to poles across the area to provide some shade, as there were in half a dozen places across the dig. The shutter clicked, and Jared unfolded from his crouch, rotating his shoulders and stretching the leg that had borne most of his weight. He stopped when he caught Jensen's eye, and waited a moment, but when Jensen didn't speak, the boy nodded courteously, and walked away purposefully toward one of the tents.

Jensen just stood there; he couldn't have spoken if he'd tried. It was as if someone had adjusted the lens of Jared's camera just one click, and suddenly everything fell into focus. It made sense, now, why Jensen's eye always followed Jared, why he thought of the boy at odd times of day when he was elsewhere, doing other things. Now he understood. Jared wasn't a beta, like everyone else, except for the handful of alphas, on this expedition.

The cord with the medallion dangling at his throat wasn't just a necklace — it was a collar. Jared was omega, the collared mate of one of the alphas.

 

Jensen continued to visit the dig site to make sure everything was running well, that supplies were being delivered and workers were available when needed. As he went about his duties as khan, his eye went often to Jared. He noticed again and again how serious Jared seemed to be, how focused and hard-working, compared to the omegas Jensen had known all his life. Jared's body language was purposeful, directed, contained, not free and graceful like the beloved omegas of Jensen's household. Compared to them, Jared seemed somber, a little needful, perhaps like a child, as yet to be wakened to his own sensuous nature.

Jensen couldn't help imagining holding Jared in his arms, wondering about his scent, the fragrance of his skin, the texture of his hair between Jensen's fingers. How hot his channel would be when Jensen slipped a finger, two, inside, how Jared would writhe on his fingers, gasping and begging for more. How copious his slick would flow, how he would mewl and cry to be filled, how that big body would soften and open to accept Jensen, and how happy they would make each other. What pretty babies Jared would give him, and how happy he would keep the omega, full and content and loved and never having to worry about history or studying or anything, ever again. How beloved and welcomed he would be by Jensen's family of omegas. Watching Jared, Jensen built a fantasy of what their life together might be. With his every visit to the site, that vision grew stronger, the reality of it becoming more desirable, more possible, until it began to seem inevitable. Jensen wanted — no, he needed — to see his dream made reality. And he was sure he knew just how to go about it. Dr. Omundson was not the expert at cards he thought he was, and Jensen was not above a little bit of cheating, if necessary, and for a good cause.

 

* * *

 

The flap slapped the side wall of the tent and light flooded in, dragging Jared to consciousness. He started to mutter a protest, but it wasn't Omundson returning. The chieftain's personal guard, alpha tall and wide, erect and spotless in his uniform, raked a glance over Jared before staring directly ahead and announcing, "Khan Ackles summons you," he announced. "You have ten minutes. Bring whatever belongings you have."

Having spoken, the guard retreated outside the tent, but the flap didn't close, and Jared could see the man blocking the entrance. He pushed himself up on an elbow, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, and raked the fingers of his free hand through his hair. What on earth?

He got himself out of bed and, having no clean boxers, just pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, stuffing the dirty clothes in with the rest of his laundry and his boots in his duffel. By the time he had on fresh socks, his sneakers, and belt, he had woken up enough to conclude that Omundson must require his presence at the palace, for some reason. His mood lifted a little at the thought of seeing the interior of the place. He'd been intrigued, granted, mostly by the fact it was forbidden to him. But at least now he'd be able to satisfy his curiosity. He glanced around the inside of the tent, checking for anything he'd forgotten. Dr. O's bags were packed, except for a few items scattered on the camp table and the makeshift bookcase. Those could be quickly packed, when they returned to make sure the crates were loaded and ready to travel, before they started for the capital. Jared shrugged his backpack on, grabbed his duffel, and stepped outside into the morning sun.

The guard moved aside to let him pass, and gestured toward the waiting jeep. Dr. Beaver was already up and checking the crates. He turned and started walking toward the jeep as Jared slid into the passenger seat, but the guard put the vehicle in gear and Jared only had time to wave as they drove off. He had wanted to ask if he had time to grab a cup of coffee, but the guard kept his gaze ahead on the road and his expression impassive, not responding when Jared tried small talk, "Nice morning, huh?" Jared shrugged, and sat back to enjoy the ride. He hadn't spent much time outside the camp proper. Omundson was most often away, and, by letter of the local law, his omega was not allowed to travel without him — not even to the nearby village. So Jared took in the scenery as they drove, with interest.

In what seemed like only a few minutes, the jeep slowed and, recognizing the driver, the guards at the palace gate moved aside to let the jeep pass. The driver pulled around the semicircular graveled drive and stopped before an arched doorway with an intricate tile surround. In the bright morning light of the courtyard, the opening appeared to give onto complete darkness. Without a word, the driver stepped out, and around the jeep to Jared's side. Jared felt the press of alpha duty emanating from the man, and though he wanted to dally, just to mess with him a little, he stepped out of the jeep and swung his backpack onto one shoulder. The guard was only an inch or two shorter than Jared, as wide through the shoulder, but he was heavier, more solid, and all of it looked like muscle. He indicated the doorway, and Jared gripped his duffel closer and moved ahead into the gloom.

There was a glimmer that grew brighter where the corridor was crossed by another. They turned right, and muted daylight streamed from carved screens that masked doorways as they walked along. Ahead, the light brightened, and then the corridor opened up into a vast, high-ceilinged room. Carved shutters filtered the sunlight, already growing heavy with heat, from windows high along the walls, and threw patterns of cool shadow on the tiled floor. The guard at his shoulder kept Jared moving toward a dais in the middle of one wall, where a man sat in a carved, high-backed wooden chair — throne, Jared thought — the chieftain, the khan, his guard had called him.

Jared glanced around the room, even into the shadowed corners, but he didn't see Omundson anywhere. He looked to the chieftain, puzzled, but aware of the collar he wore, and the rules and customs of Umara, he hesitated to speak. He found himself herded by the guard to stand directly before the khan, and he was unsure whether to bow, or — or kneel? No, he wouldn't have to kneel, would he? And where was Dr. O?

"What is your name?"

Jared was startled, a little, at the pleasant baritone voice that spoke in unaccented English. He collected himself and answered. "Jared, sir. Jared Padalecki."

"Welcome, Jared Padalecki," the chieftain nodded, cordially, and gave a little smile. "Tahmoh will show you to your room."

Jared glanced at his guard, whose name, apparently, was Tahmoh. Okay. "My — my room? I'm sorry, sir, but we're packing to leave this morning, and I should get back to camp." Jared threw another searching glance around the edges of the room, asking, "Is Dr. Omundson here? I thought he had sent for me, that he needed me here, for some reason?"

The man rose, and took the two steps down from the dais to stand in front of Jared. He glanced at Tahmoh, and the guard stepped away — not far, but Jared couldn't feel him breathing on the back of his neck, anymore. The chieftain paced to Jared's right, circling him. Jared resisted the impulse to turn in place to follow him, but he was keenly aware of the assessing gaze before the man moved back to face him.

"Dr. Omundson has been called away," he smiled. "Come, walk a little with me." He waited until Jared nodded, and then moved toward a bright square of doorway at the far side of the room. "Your alpha and I have enjoyed each other's company over the last weeks," he said. "He has a fine appreciation for good wine, and cigars. And he enjoys a game of cards."

Jared nodded. He was aware of Omundson's interests, and enjoyable pursuits.

The khan continued. "We have played many games over the time we've spent together." He made eye contact with Jared and waved a hand when he said, "He has won, I have won, we have both enjoyed the games." He gestured for Jared to proceed him into a small courtyard, bright with sun, where a fountain played musically amid a colorful mass of flowers. Bees worked with fanatical enthusiasm, as Jared and the chieftain strolled into the otherwise unoccupied space. Tahmoh followed, far enough away to make overhearing deniable.

"The last few evenings, though, luck has not been a friend to the good doctor." the chieftain shot a sideways glance at Jared, and there was a little smile that made Jared uneasy, though he couldn't pin down a reason why. "I extended him a course of credit, twice," the chieftain said, conjuring a note of sympathy in his voice. "But his luck just didn't seem to turn. I'm afraid he wagered, and lost, all he had."

"That's terrible," Jared murmured. Surely Omundson had funds back in the states. Surely he hadn't lost everything — there was his house, and the carefully selected antiques. He had two really expensive cars, and there was his salary, which was generous, as faculty salaries went, as well as the generous speaker's fees.

"Yes," the chieftain murmured, gesturing toward a shadowed doorway and waiting for Jared to go through. "A gentleman pays his debts, though — I'm not sure omegas are aware of such codes of conduct among alphas."

Jared stiffened, aware suddenly that he was in a rigidly conservative country, and in the company of an alpha not considered his own. His mouth was too dry for him to get words out. He was aware of Tahmoh, only steps away, and the impossibility of getting past him, should he decide to bolt. If, Jared thought desperately, he could ever find his way out of this maze again, past the guards at the gate, and back to the dig without being overtaken. He shivered, trying to dispel his impulse to flee. He went through the doorway into a comfortably furnished room, part library, part office, it appeared, and part sitting area. The chieftain followed Jared inside, and Tahmoh waited just outside the door.

"Nonetheless," the chieftain continued. "We abide by these codes, and your alpha had lost everything." The man moved closer, and his gaze bored into Jared's panicking one. "Everything," he repeated. "One presumes he felt embarrassed to appear destitute before his colleagues, but whatever the reason, Dr. Omundson has left the country. He should be boarding a flight for the states in the next hour or so, if he hasn't already left."

"But — the expedition! He can't just leave — "

"He has left, Jared. The expedition may follow, with everyone attached to it, and all the items that have been found, and catalogued, and readied to ship to their destinations."

Jared sagged in relief, almost lightheaded at the words. "But in order to fulfill his debt, he did leave me one thing in payment."

Jared watched in disbelief and growing horror as the khan pulled a folded sheaf of papers from a pocket, and unfolded it slowly, smoothing it flat against the desktop, and making sure Jared could read the bold, intricate script of the title, the fancifully inked border, and the handwriting on the lines of the familiar form. It was Jared's Omega contract, signed, as a formality so that Jared could join the expedition, by both Omundson and himself.

"He left me you."


	2. Hostage | J2 AU NC-17

 

The boy was delicious. Jensen watched his eyes widen as he recognized the paperwork in Jensen's hand, as he took a step back, swallowed convulsively, hitched a breath and tried to get both his thoughts and his voice under control.

"No! That's — No, that's not. I mean, that contract — "

"Is legal and binding," Jensen said, smoothly. "In accordance with the rules and guidelines of your country, of Rirajistan, and of the Umara region — of which, I'm sure you know, I am ruler and hereditary chieftain."

Jared's glance flew up to Jensen's, but didn't hold, darting back down to the papers. He put out a hand as if to snatch them, but Jensen moved them just out of reach, casually, letting the boy know Jensen was unworried and confident.

"Sir — " Jared stuttered out, his voice choked with growing panic.

"Khan," Jensen coached him calmly, and was rewarded with another panicked glance.

Jared took a breath, raised his chin. Jensen could feel him stiffen his spine and calm himself, though he didn't stand to full height — which was wise, and probably instinctive. Omundson had said the boy had no training in how to behave as an omega, but here he was, minimizing his height and imposing physicality, so as not to threaten an alpha's aura of command. Oh, it was going to be such an adventure to bring this untamed creature to heel, train him to respond to Jensen's command. His mouth watered and his cock stirred at the thought. But he was wandering and, abruptly, he brought all his attention back to the present.

Shock paralyzed Jared for a moment, shock followed by a wash of fear and desperation. His grip tightened on the strap of his backpack, and he took a breath, and another, to steady him.

"Khan," he began again. "That contract — "

"I'm sure you're not going to tell me, Jared, that this contract was merely an agreement between you and Dr. Omundson, a deception to get you into this country, illegally. To enable you, as an omega, to work on the dig, putting you under the good doctor's sheltering responsibility?" Jensen watched Jared like a hawk, noting the widening of his eyes, which he quickly disguised by dropping his gaze, the pallor of his skin at Jensen's news, and now, the flush he couldn't hide as the blood rushed back to the surface. The boy struggled to control his breathing — for a moment or two it looked like he might hyperventilate. Tahmoh shifted closer, to catch Jared if he swayed in shock.

"Surely you and Dr. Omundson would never attempt to perpetrate such a lie," Jensen went on. He scaled back the reproach in his voice. No sense overplaying it, now, when he had already won. "In a country which welcomed you, where we have done all we might to make your stay comfortable and your expedition successful."

The boy's gaze flicked up to Jensen's face, but could not hold, and fell away again. "No, of course we didn't intend to lie."

"So you have been Dr. Omundson's mate for...several months, now, at least. Is that correct?"

Jared's cheeks flushed again, hectic, as he struggled for the right words. Jensen powered on. "So this is merely a transfer, from your former alpha to me."

A shallow wooden box lay on the desk, and Jensen opened the lid to reveal a collar coiled on the velvet lining. Coiled like a snake, judging from Jared's reaction, though he instantly controlled it. Jensen, smiling, took a pair of long-bladed paper shears from his desk drawer and approached Jared, who absolutely couldn't hold his ground another minute. He lurched away, and would have turned and run, but the alpha guard was behind him, solid as a wall. His hands grasped Jared's biceps, holding him still as Jensen came nearer, the shears in his hand. He lifted them to Jared's neck, and there was a quiet "snick" as the blades met, and Omundson's medallion on its leather thong fell into Jensen's cupped palm. He dropped it carelessly on the desk and reached for the box. He lifted out the collar, about the thickness of his little finger, plain brown leather, rolled and stitched, with a golden loop on either end. Quickly, he settled it about Jared's neck, and from the pocket where he'd had it ready, he took the small padlock, slipped the hasp through each loop and closed it at Jared's throat with a snap.

The sound of the lock closing seemed to paralyze Jared. He turned very pale, and seemed to stop breathing, as though he couldn't seem to force air past the collar down to his lungs. Jensen slipped two fingers between the leather and Jared's skin. The warmth of them made the boy gasp, and Tahmoh's grip kept him from swaying. Jensen smiled, bright and wide, and clapped Jared gently on the shoulder. "Welcome to my home, Jared. And to my family." He reached under his desktop to touch a call button, then straightened to face Jared again.

"But, Dr. O didn't mention anything. This wasn't part of our agreement, and he never said anything to me — "

Jensen turned the full force of his smile on the boy. "Surely, Jared, you understand that this is a matter between alphas.." He shrugged carelessly, keeping his gaze on Jared. "Dr. Omundson fared badly at cards. In short, he lost, and was left owing a considerable sum. Your contract," Jensen lingered over the word, emphasizing it, "was the accepted form of payment."

Jensen saw the shudder go through the boy. "I — um." Jared stammered, and Jensen could hear him trying to bargain as he slipped the backpack off his shoulder and started to dig through it. His hand emerged holding a phone. "This is...unexpected. I need to call my family, let them know. My department at school — they'll be expecting me back. I have to finish my thesis, for my degree..."

"You know that won't work here." Jensen spread his hands and smiled expansively, exuding reassurance. "Besides, everything's already taken care of. I spoke with Dr. Beaver — "

Jared's eyes widened. "When? When was this?"

"This morning," Jensen said, unperturbed. "Before you woke. Dr. Beaver understands your situation, and has agreed, on my behalf, to get in touch with your family and your school, to let them know you've decided to stay on in Umara and...learn about the customs here." The hesitation was barely perceptible. He held out his hand in an unspoken command for Jared to give him the cell phone.

"On your behalf?" Jensen could see the alarms going off in the boy's head, but he didn't give Jared the time to think. "But — I need to see him — see my friends, before they leave." Desperation beginning to show, he turned toward the door, the courtyard outside, as if he would retrace the way he had been led.

"Jared." Jensen emphasized the note of authority in his voice, and Jared stilled at the sound of it. "I know things can be different in your country. But here in mine, there are rules. And you will learn those rules, and come to accept them. Even," he smiled encouragingly, "perhaps, be grateful for them."

He held his regard steady on Jared, and the boy stilled. His jaw dropped a little, and his head moved in a slight shake of denial. He looked overwhelmed. Jensen's heart gave a little twinge at that look, but he knew what was best for this boy. And once they had settled into their new relationship, Jared wouldn't have to worry about anything, ever again. Finally, reluctant but obedient, Jared put his phone in Jensen's hand.

Misha entered silently, and stood waiting a few paces away. Jensen exchanged a nod with the man, and addressed Jared again. "It's a much simpler, happier way of life here, Jared. Especially for an omega."

Jared gave a little shudder and his gaze settled on Jensen, finally. His mouth hung open, breath rasping. "I can't!" Shaking his head, he backed away, stumbling over a hassock and catching his balance. "No. I — I'm not. I have family, and school! I have a _life!_ I can't be — No!" He spun, and lunged toward the door, but Tahmoh was there, and caught him. The boy struggled, and had he been less in shock and more prepared, he might have had a chance of making it past the door. But Tahmoh subdued him, and Jensen approached and laid a hand on Jared's shoulder.

"Jared." The boy stopped struggling and stilled, despite his will, his nature waiting for Jensen to tell him what to do. "Go with Misha." Jensen gestured, and Jared turned to look at Misha, noticing him for the first time. "He'll show you to your room, and introduce you to the rest of the family."

"Come on, Jared. This way," the beta smiled an invitation and moved toward the closed door. Jared didn't move until Tahmoh put a hand between his shoulder blades and gave him a gentle push. Once in motion, he continued walking, though his expression was confused and fearful, and desperately unhappy. It tugged at Jensen's heart, a little, but he had no doubt the others would help Jared settle in. Give it a little time. He and Jared were going to be very happy together.

* * *

Jared stumbled after the man, Misha, not quite in command of his legs and feet. What — what had just happened here? How? How could Dr. O just — leave, without Jared? Just go back to Andawar and catch a flight home, and leave Jared here, alone? In payment of debts to the khan? How could that even happen? In what world would a University professor treat his student, his teaching assistant, this way? Jared had to believe that Omundson had just gone to get the money he owed the khan, and that he would be back to ransom Jared from this nightmare. It was the only thing that made sense. But, why hadn't he at least left Jared word, if that was the case? How could Dr. O just let him walk into this, completely unprepared, and without his agreement?

"The door is kept locked from this side," Misha was saying, as he held the door open for Jared; Tahmoh caught it, and followed them through. The skin between Jared's shoulder blades twitched, but after that one push, the big guard hadn't touched him again, and Jared wanted to keep it that way. He tried to listen to what Misha was saying, but his ears were ringing, and everything was a blur. They passed through another corridor, and again there was a locked door. Misha used another key on the ring attached to his belt to open it, and ushered Jared into a covered outdoor gallery. The gallery made up one end wall of a huge courtyard, with a swimming pool in the center. There were open doorways at intervals all along under the roof, and where the wall turned a right angle ahead, there were more doorways in the long wall of the courtyard. Misha stopped beside a door and smiled.

"I think you'll be comfortable here," he told Jared, and with Tahmoh looming at his back, Jared took a step into the room. He had a quick impression of a large bed, a tiled floor, and an archway in the far wall that opened into what appeared to be another room. "You can look around later, unpack, settle in, and get comfortable. For right now, just put your things down here," he indicated the bed. "It's time for you to meet the others."

Jared gripped the straps of his duffel in his fist, and made no move to shed it, or his backpack. A frown of irritation flickered over the beta's features, and as quickly smoothed back into the pleasant expression. "Your posessions will be perfectly safe here, nobody will bother them," Misha assured him. "Unless you give permission. Just leave your bags on the bed."

Jared swallowed. "I-it's been a — " He hesitated before settling for, "surprising morning. I don't think I'm ready to meet anybody — "

The strap was pulled from his grasp, and the backpack was lifted off his back. Both bags landed on the bed. Jared turned to face Tahmoh, who regarded him impassively. But it was Misha who said, "No time like the present. Come along."

He left the room, and with Tahmoh's implacable bulk behind him, Jared had no choice but to follow. As they approached a doorway in the long wall, Jared could hear voices, bright chatter, and laughter. Misha stepped inside, Jared following, with Tahmoh at his back.

"Hey, Misha!" a small, dark girl darted over and reached up on tiptoes to kiss Misha's cheek. She hugged him and stepped back, her eyes on Jared.

"Misha!" several voices greeted him, and Jared swept the group with a glance. All of them wore collars, with some sort of medallion at the throat. There were three girls, including the tiny brunette, a taller blonde, and a redhead with a killer smile. There were a couple of guys, too, and as they came over to say hello, Jared's knees nearly buckled.

"This is Matt," Misha was introducing the dark-haired man with the piercing blue eyes, and the protruding belly of a six-months pregnancy. "Katie, Danneel, Genevieve, and Chad." Katie held a toddler on her hip, and Genevieve darted back to the sofa, where a cranky whimper came from a basket. She lifted a small, swaddled form up onto her shoulder, and bounced a little as she came back to meet Jared.

"Everyone, this is Jared. He's a part of the family, now, so be nice to him."

Jared flashed a panicked look at the beta, and stumbled backwards. Tahmoh was there, though, a solid wall. Jared wasn't going anywhere.

"Chad, why don't you show Jared around the garden," Misha suggested, brightly. "And the rest of you can explain meals and laundry, and whatever other questions Jared might have, yeah?" Everybody nodded eagerly, and there was a babble of voices as everybody talked at once. Jared's gaze just traveled from face to face, absorbing nothing of what they were saying. He didn't notice at first when Misha stepped away and left him there with these strangers, but when he did, he glanced around, mildly panicked. Tahmoh was still there, though, a couple of quick strides away.

"What?" a hand plucked at his sleeve, and he looked down at the redhaired girl, who grinned up at him.

"I'm Danneel," she said. "They sure grow them big where you come from, don't they?" When he couldn't formulate an answer, she pressed on. "Where is that, exactly?"

He took a breath, and his brain came back online. This, he could answer. "The states," he told her. "Texas, originally. California now." Reality poked him in the gut as her grin faltered a little.

"Well, now, you're from here," she corrected him.

He couldn't quite give voice to the fact, and he just shrugged, and the silence lengthened, awkwardly uncomfortable. Finally, the omega named Chad stirred, remembering Misha's instruction. "Come on. I'll give you the ten-cent tour of the garden." He moved toward the open door. "Let's go."

The others smiled and nodded encouragement, so Jared followed Chad outside, Tahmoh ever present at his back. The pool at the center of the courtyard was enormous, sparkling and glinting in the midday sun, the tiled mosaic walls and floor wavering beneath the crystal water. It was beautiful.

Jared surveyed the stone walls that surrounded the pool. All three of the visible boundary walls were two story, and two of those were the gallery of rooms that opened onto the courtyard. The third wall was the palace itself. There were shuttered windows on the second floor that gave a view of the pool, but there were no openings on the ground floor — none but that single door through which Jared had entered the courtyard, the one kept locked from the other side.

He followed Chad, and they strolled the length of the pool until they reached the far end of it. There was a wall there, too, but it was mostly decorative, and there was an arched opening through which Jared glimpsed trees and flowers and green growing things. "This is the garden," Chad said, unnecessarily. "Sometimes Alpha brings guests through to show off some flower or other. And the gardeners are always in and out. Otherwise, it's ours." He stepped through the archway. "Come on."

It was a glorious garden. Flowering vines grew up structures built especially for them, or were trained up the palace wall — though not the boundary walls, Jared noted. There were huge, mature broadleaf trees, a couple that invited climbing, to spend an afternoon with a book, high in the tree's embrace. And there were evergreens with wonderful aromatic bark. Bees worked, tireless and industrious, among beds of low-growing flowers and banks of irises, snapdragons — he actually recognized snapdragons — and lilies, many varieties of each, carefully planted in increasing heights to display everything at its best advantage. Draped over trellises and arbors and a pergola built to display them were cascades of lantana and bougainvillea, and a wisteria vine that looked decades old. There was the scent and color of roses planted for spectacular display throughout the garden, hibiscus of many colors, and more flowering shrubs: lilac, buddleia, rhododendron, and azalea, as well as fruit trees in various stages of bloom. He wasn't sure, but over there, those might be hazelnut trees — or almonds, perhaps both. There was an herb garden laid out in geometrical beds, and Jared paused to gently pull a rosemary stem through his fingers, and bury his hand in a bunch of thyme. It smelled like his mama's garden, back home.

Chad watched him, with a little smile on his face.

"What?"

"You must like plants, man. You looked like you were going to fly apart in a dozen pieces back there." He nodded back toward the room where they'd left the others. "You've relaxed a little, out here."

"My mom loves plants. She's turned our yard into flower gardens, an herb garden. She's planted shrubs and learned a little about topiary — we tease her about that," Jared grinned. "Trimming bushes into poodles — like Edward Scissorhands." Chad regarded him blankly, clearly not getting the reference. Jared turned to gaze in one direction at blossoms, as far as he could see. "She even has a moonlight garden, where all the flowers are white, and some only bloom after dark. She made me take a horticulture course with her in the evenings at the community college, and I learned enough to help her, sometimes."

His voice caught, and he turned away to hide a rush of tears as everything came flooding back.

Chad regarded him with an odd expression. "You lived with your mom? How old were you when you took this course?"

Jared struggled to get his voice under control. "Fourteen," he answered. "And of course I lived with my family — my mom, dad, my brother and sister." He shot a searching look at Chad. "Why? Don't families live together here?"

Chad shrugged, and his gaze fell. "I guess it's a little different," was all he said.

They both stood, awkwardly silent, until Jared couldn't stand it. "Well, thanks for the tour, man," he managed to get out. "But I think I'm gonna go..." He hesitated before he surrendered to the idea. "unpack."

Chad eyed him a moment, and exchanged a look with Tahmoh, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yeah, okay. Well, supper's at seven. I guess I'll see you then. And tomorrow," he poked Jared's sternum with a bony finger. "I want to hear more of your story. Right?" He ducked a little, to get a look into Jared's eyes.

Jared nodded, and from somewhere, found enough voice to answer, "Yeah. Okay."

 

There was no door to close, so anyone could wander in and out of his room at random times, and that afternoon and evening, they did. They sat on his bed, teased and talked to each other, and tried to include Jared in their conversations. He answered direct questions when he could, and did his best to smile, but it felt very late when Chad and Gen wandered out, arms around each other, and he could fall face down on his mattress and into sleep. If he dreamed, he didn't remember, and was surprised at that the next morning, when Matt and Katie woke him, bouncing on his mattress, play fighting over some nonsense at the foot of his bed — and on his feet.

They insisted he get up, because they all gathered in the large common room for breakfast, and they wouldn't start without him. The others laughed at Jared when he complained about the lack of coffee, since none of them had ever had occasion to try it. He complained even louder to Misha, who promised to see what he could do.

After breakfast, the omegas wandered off to do whatever they'd planned for their day, and Jared went to the garden. Tahmoh, who was waiting just outside, shadowed him. His chest expanded when he stepped through the gateway, and it felt like it was his first full breath of the day.

That first morning, he began exploring along the garden wall, all the way to the end of the garden and the fourth tall stone boundary. There was a path that edged between the plants and the wall, but it was overgrown, and he brushed aside branches that arched over the path, and strode through vines that had flung tendrils across it. The walls themselves were free of vines. It was evident that the gardeners kept them cleared.

Jared tried to be subtle as he assessed each tree that grew close to the walls, how sturdy their branches were and how far they reached. None were close or strong enough to get him up and over the wall. His gaze also ran along the face of the walls, all the way to the top, estimating height, seeking finger and toeholds. Of course, there were none. The stone was dressed smooth and well-fitted, any gaps there might have been were nearly invisible. It was clear Jared would never scale these walls without help.

"Even if you did get over the wall," Tahmoh spoke from the shade of a tree where he leaned against the trunk. "You do know the khan's guard is posted every few feet outside there."

Jared turned to him, and Tahmoh continued. "And if, somehow, you did manage to slip past all of them unnoticed, there is nothing but desert beyond." His own eyes lifted to the top of the wall. "If you had the incredible luck to stumble into the town, people there will know who you are, and where you come from." The alpha guard shifted away from the tree and stood square, facing Jared. His voice, however, remained soft when he continued. "The khan will be notified, and you'll be held until he comes for you. If you don't find your way to town," a note of warning crept into his voice, "but wander unguided into the desert, you'll likely die of thirst, alone. If you do have the fortune to stumble across someone, they will either know who you are, and will deliver you back to the khan, or will keep you for themselves." Tahmoh took a step toward Jared, his gaze leveled on Jared's own, direct and unflinching. "And, believe me, Jared, you would find other alphas far less pleasant to serve than the khan."

Jared moved away, undeniably daunted by the prospect. He didn't give up the idea entirely, though. If he could somehow find maps of the area, find a road that led to the capital city, maybe he could travel by night, hide and sleep during the day, and make it to Andawar. He would find the US consulate, and call home. Surely his parents had contacted the authorities by now, they must be working to try and get him out of here, and back where he belonged. He would cling to that hope, as the days went by. For now though, he left the garden, and returned to his room, with Tahmoh trailing a few steps behind.

Late that morning, Misha brought a woman, another beta, to Jared's room. She made Jared stand still while he was measured: arm and leg length, breadth of shoulder, around his chest, waist and hips. The woman made notes, smiled, and went away, leaving Misha, who asked if Jared needed anything that hadn't been provided.

"I'd like to go for a swim."

Misha smiled and nodded toward the pool. "By all means. It's there for you to enjoy."

"Trunks?" Jared asked. He didn't have a pair in his duffel. Taking minimal luggage to a desert country, swim gear hadn't been anywhere on his priority list. At Misha's slight hesitation, he asked, "What do — the others wear to swim?" and hoped there were garments involved. He didn't think he was ready for mixed nude pool time, especially when the image of Matt in late pregnancy hovered before his mind's eye.

"Ah," Misha nodded. "Let me see what I can do. Anything else?"

Jared shook his head. "I don't think so."

Misha went away, and Jared sat on his bed, which had been made while he was out. He bent down to look underneath, and his backpack and duffel were both where he had left them, pushed to the center, up against the wall at the head of the bed. There was nowhere else to hide them, and Jared hoped whoever cleaned wasn't diligent enough to go exploring underneath his bed.

In a little while, Danneel wandered in to collect him for lunch, and when he went back to his room afterward, there was a pair of swim trunks left on his bed. They were bright blue, not a color he would have chosen for himself, but he wasted no time shucking the jeans he'd worn commando for days now, the sneakers and socks and t-shirt. He grabbed a towel from the rod in the bathroom and headed out to get wet.

Having steeped in the sun all morning, the water was warm, but still cooler than the air. Jared sat on the edge and then slipped without a ripple into the water and started his first lap. As he reached and pulled and kicked and stretched and concentrated on breathing, everything in him seemed to settle into place. As the worry surfaced, he swam through it. As half-formed escape plans swirled in his mind, he swam through it. As his family's probable reaction to his capture worried at him, he swam through it. As unknown expectations, and resistance to reality rose to confront him, his strokes lengthened, he pulled stronger, but moved easier, until there was nothing but the pull and stretch of muscles and the rhythm of breathing. He lost count of the number of laps; it didn't matter. What counted was that when he finally slowed and turned on his back to stroke slower, relaxing and feeling himself buoyed by the water, everything seemed manageable for the first time since waking in camp, yesterday morning. God, had it only been yesterday? It felt like weeks.

The sounds of laughter and chatter, and girls' shrill shrieking penetrated his awareness, and he realized he was no longer alone in the pool. All the omegas were paddling, though Chad had claimed an air mattress, and was resisting attempts to capsize him, or throw him off.

"Jared!" Genevieve yelled, giggling. "Come help!" And, relaxed as he was now, fun sounded like a good thing. He flipped onto his stomach and kicked toward Chad, determined to claim the mattress for Gen, or Matt, whoever wanted it most.

That evening when Jared returned to his room after supper, there was another guard, a beta, with Tahmoh, who introduced him as Malik before leaving him with Jared. When Jared stepped into his room, Malik took up his post just outside, out of line of sight but available in an instant should he be needed. From then on it was Malik who shadowed Jared when Tahmoh was off-duty. Both guards were mostly unobtrusive, staying in the background, though always within a couple of strides' reach of Jared. He wasn't sure if they were there to keep him safe, or to make sure he didn't escape. He supposed it didn't really matter — the result was their constant presence.

The other omegas' rooms were lined up along the long side of the pool, and there were no guards that Jared had seen standing watch at any of their doorways. That seemed to settle pretty decisively whether he was guarded for protection, or to prevent escape.

 

Jared rose early the next morning. He pulled his duffel out from beneath the bed, retrieved and pulled on a pair of cargo shorts, his sneakers, and his least-dirty pair of socks. He kicked the duffel back under the bed, and headed for the garden, with Malik in his wake.

"I'm not going anywhere, except to run alongside the wall," Jared told the guard once they reached the garden. "You can wait here, if you like."

Malik shrugged, and Jared stretched while Malik watched him with a slight smile on his face. When he finished stretching, Jared walked the first part of the path, But when he warmed up and shifted into a jog, the padlock at his throat bounced heavily, annoyingly distracting. Jared grasped the lock in his fingers and rotated the collar so that the padlock rested at his nape, and it more or less stayed in place there. Malik kept pace with him on his first circuit around the garden, but dropped away to lean against the gate arch as Jared continued. Just as well. Those boots he wore hadn't been made for running.

An hour later, Jared arranged deodorant, toothbrush and toothpaste, razor and shaving gel from his duffel on the bathroom counter, and, shampoo in hand, stepped into the sybaritic shower in his room. The architect of this place had no use for doors, and the bath was no exception to that. The walls were the same stone as all the rooms he'd seen so far, and there was a glass-walled shower with a rain head, a hand-shower, and body jets. The basin was bigger than the kitchen sink in some of the apartments Jared was familiar with, and the toilet flushed like a champ. There were big blocks of aromatic, herb-smelling soap in the shower and on the sink counter, and Jared left the remaining sliver of grocery store deodorant soap in its plastic box in his kit, and used this stuff instead. It produced clouds of lather, and his skin felt pleasant once he'd rinsed it all away.

The towels were soft and absorbent, though they weren't the terrycloth he was used to. These were a flat weave, like the tea towels his mom used for glasses. His features twisted for just an instant at the memory before he forced it away, and finished drying off. He padded barefoot into the bedroom to retrieve his duffel, sorting through his clothes for the least-soiled. He needed to ask about laundry. He had expected to be landing in the US about now, stopping off at his parents' to do his laundry while he caught up with them, and told them all about his trip. Tears came while he stuffed jeans and cargoes back into the duffel. He brushed them away, angrily. Tears were useless. He was useless. He needed to get out of here.

He pulled on his least-filthy jeans and kicked the duffel back under the bed before stalking down to the common room to see if lunch was ready. Between angry resentment and frustration he could do nothing about, he was ready to chew nails, but he'd settle for actual food. When everybody had arrived and settled down to eat, Jared looked around the table; someone was missing. "Where's Chad?"

He felt a few glances of surprise at his question, before Katie smiled, a happy, reminiscent expression warming her features. "Chad's heat started last night," she said. "He'll be with Alpha for a few days." Her smile was contagious, it seemed everyone shared it. Jared had no experience with heats, not his own, and no one he knew had ever been through a heat — not that he'd been aware of, anyway. He dropped his gaze to his plate and gave his attention to his meal.

After lunch, Misha came to Jared's room bearing an armful of clothes. There were t-shirts and tank-style shirts, new, but washed soft. There was another pair of swim trunks, a pair of sandals, and a pair of fabric slippers with thin soles, and a small stack of folded trousers and shirts. He set everything on Jared's bed, and shook out a few pieces to show him. All the fabrics were soft, and among the ivory, black, and tan, there were colors that glowed brighter than anything Jared had ever worn before. Misha held a tunic of shimmering pale aqua and a pair of dark blue trousers up near Jared's face, and nodded. "The aqua brings out your eyes," he said. "But so will the green, and the dark tan."

Jared fingered the fabric, and part of him wanted no part of these clothes. But Misha said. "Wear these tomorrow night."

"What's tomorrow night?" Jared wanted to know.

"You're dining with the khan," Misha told him, as he left, and Jared was alone, at least for now.

 


	3. Hostage | J2 AU NC-17

 

He fingered the fabric of the tunic, forcibly controlling his breathing, as he contemplated coming face to face with the khan again. His mind kept shying away from thoughts of what he should expect to happen at dinner — or afterward. Exasperated with himself for borrowing trouble, he huffed out a, "Shit!" and turned to gather up the new clothes. He opened all the drawers in the small dresser, and put the new clothes away, shutting each drawer a little harder than necessary as he filled them.

He saw his reflection in the mirror hung above the dresser, and caught sight of the khan's collar for the first time. He'd worn the leather thong Omundson had suggested without protest. It had seemed innocuous, just a necklace. He'd never — ever, in his life — been collared. He had never expected to be, had never even imagined it, and he'd certainly never wanted it. The padlock glinted at his throat, and, as had happened when the khan locked it on him, his throat closed and he choked for breath. His eyes slammed shut to keep out the sight of it, his fists clenched till his knuckles were white, and he fought through it, the fingers of one hand slipping between the leather and his skin to prove it was loose enough for him to breathe. When he'd struggled his way through to calm, he opened his eyes and slowly raised them to the mirror. When he could look at himself without his gut twisting, he nodded, and stepped away from his reflection.

He refused to let himself speculate about tomorrow night, and what it might lead to; he'd cross that bridge when he got there. For now, he wandered down to the common room to find out about tonight's supper.

It wasn't ready yet, Matt told him. Katie had a blue-eyed toddler on her hip; the girl regarded Jared solemnly. "Katya, this is Jared," Katie said, bouncing a little. "Say hi to Jared."

Jared walked closer, and reached to shake Katya's hand. "Hi, Katya." She allowed it, but drew her hand back quickly.

"It's time to put her to bed," Katie smiled an invitation. "Why don’t you come with us?"

He couldn't think of an excuse not to, there was nothing else to do at the moment. He followed Katie up a flight of stairs and to a room that was large, with high ceilings, and windows that overlooked the pool and garden. Carved wooden shutters could be closed to screen the sun. The room was arranged with bays along the walls, with cots and chairs and tables in each bay. The center of the room was covered in thick carpets, and strewn with toys. Children, most of them in nightclothes, played with toys there, or gathered in a corner to turn the pages of a picture book. There were two small infants, a toddler who looked older than Katya, and a couple of children that Jared guessed to be preschool age. They all looked up and smiled at Katie, and examined Jared curiously.

"This is Jared," Katie made the introduction to the room’s small occupants. "He's new. But he's nice."

There was a tug at the pocket of his jeans, and he looked down and met the round green gaze of a little girl, already in her nightdress, like the other children. She held her book up to him. "Read me," she demanded, imperiously. Katie was busy with Katya, so he glanced around the space for a comfy spot, finally settling on just sitting where he stood. The girl nestled in beside him, tucking herself into the curve of his arm where he held the book, as he started to read.

He glanced up a few minutes later as someone entered. She had dark, curly hair, and wore some sort of fabric wrap, with a baby slung in its folds, tucked up tight against her. Katie bent to touch Jared's arm. "Time to go, Jared."

The little girl pressed back against him, a stubborn expression stealing over her features. "No." Her bottom lip poked out, and she wrapped a little hand around a fold of Jared's shirt and held on tight. "My Jared."

"Eisha," Katie knelt beside Jared and the girl. "It's time for us to go, and bedtime for you, little one. Jared hasn't had his supper, yet. You don't want him going hungry, do you?"

"That's a lot of hungry to deal with," the curly-haired woman was beside them, smiling, having shed the baby wrap, and the baby. "I've got her, Katie."

Katie stood and stepped away. "Thanks, Vicki."

Jared looked from one woman to the other, then down at Eisha, who was still clinging fiercely to his shirt, her little body pressed even harder against him. He had no idea what to do, but Vicki reached out and scooped Eisha up, holding her firmly. The book she left in Jared's hands. "Come on, now, love. Say goodnight to Jared. Maybe he'll come back and read to you again."

Jared stood, laying the book carefully on the rug. "I'll be happy to," he told Eisha, with a smile. She regarded him soberly for a long minute, then leaned toward him, one hand clinging to Vicki's shirt. He leaned in too, to meet her, and she left a sticky wet kiss on his cheek.

His hand went up to cover the wet mark, and Vicki grinned at him.

"Come on," Katie plucked at his sleeve and wound her arm through his. "I'm starving."

Dinner was good, as every meal here had been, the food plentiful and well-prepared. He had been too upset and tense at first, unable to relax and join in the conversation, but by this time, Jared found himself enjoying both the food and the company. These people had all spent long enough together to know each other well. There was teasing, and giggling, and some mock cursing, but by the time the meal was over, Jared was more relaxed than he'd felt in a while.

He glanced around the table, watching Matt tease Katie, and Chad throw pinches of bread at Danneel, and Genevieve nurse her infant. It almost felt like a family.

Meals were communal, morning, midday, and evening. There was a fridge in the corner if anyone wanted fruit, juice, or ice water between meals. There was cheese and bread, too. If Jared wanted anything that wasn't available, Misha had instructed him to ask, and it might be possible to provide it. He was working on coffee for Jared's breakfast, now.

Everyone wore sandals or slippers, and the drawstring trousers, with a tunic, or the tank type shirts, or t-shirts, with or without an open shirt over it. There was a laundry chute upstairs, near the nursery. Drop your clothes in, they told him, and they'd be returned to you washed and folded. All their needs seemed to be anticipated and provided for them. They seemed content, affectionate with each other, and they easily included him, too. They all seemed happy, and very pleased with their life.

"But, what do you _do_?" Jared wanted to ask them. "I don't see any books, no television, no DVDs, no games. What do you people do all day?" But he didn't ask. Not yet. He could watch and learn, and in the meantime, there were things he could do, himself.

Tahmoh wasn't waiting just outside the common room for him when supper was over, but Jared saw him standing beside Jared's doorway. They exchanged a greeting and a slight smile as Jared passed, leaving the man within easy earshot, but out of sight.

It wasn't dark yet, not even twilight, and the late yellow sun streamed into his room. Not ready for bed and needing something to occupy him after supper, Jared pulled his backpack out from under the bed where he'd shoved it, and started pulling things out of it, taking inventory. There were his boots. He was wearing his running shoes, but if he switched to the sandals and slippers Misha had provided, he could give both his sneakers and boots a decent airing. He was wearing his last, cleanest pair of jeans, his last change of socks. There were neither socks nor underwear in the stack of clothing he'd been given.

He pulled out the stash of dirty laundry — all the clothes he'd had with him in camp, including boxer briefs and socks, his other jeans, two pairs of cargo shorts, a pair of running shorts, a few t-shirts, and a couple of button-downs. He started bundling them up to put in the laundry, but then he stopped. The clothes were his own, a link to who he was outside these walls, to the life he planned to get back to, just as soon as possible. He was suddenly reluctant to let them out of his possession. He bundled them into his bathroom, instead.

Jared pulled the towels off the rack and tossed them on the bed. He ran a sinkful of very warm water, threw in his socks, and began to scrub them by hand, using the hand soap. Eughh. He let the water out, brown silt swirling down the drain, and ran another sinkful to rinse. It took three rinses before the water stayed clear, and he wrung out the socks as well as he could, and draped them over the towel bars to drip dry.

He washed his boxer briefs the same way, and made space for them to hang between the socks. The items were crowded on the rods, but they should dry all right. He looked for an anchor spot or two for a clothesline, but nothing looked promising, even if he could talk Misha into providing a length of line, which he doubted, because Misha would demand to know why he needed it, and when Jared told him, he would scoff at Jared for washing his own clothes. He might insist Jared put the clothes in the laundry — he might even confiscate clothes that didn't conform to what the khan's omegas wore. No, the rest of Jared's clothes would just have to wait for drying space, because he wasn't giving them up.

He stuffed everything back into the duffel, except his boots and running shoes, which he set against the wall and out of the way, and then shoved the duffel back under the bed. He pulled out his backpack, and went through it to see what he might have forgotten he had stashed in it. There were his camera and lenses, of course — well, they belonged to the U, and were far better quality than anything Jared could have afforded. Loaned to Jared for the dig, the responsibility for their use and care was on him — great job he had done, there. At least the expedition had all the pictures he had taken of the dig; he had packed the hard drive for shipping with the rest of the digital material the night before he had been taken.

There was his laptop and his flashdrives, one that contained copies of all his photographs and his notes from the dig, and the second, his thesis document. There were a few pencils, a ruler, a small square and a protractor for drawing diagrams, erasers, a couple of notebooks, one that had most of his handwritten notes in it. There were a couple of others, one that was mostly blank, and a couple of battered paperbacks he'd brought, mindful of the scarcity of recharging opportunities, instead of his Nook. He held the flash drives in his hand. Somehow he would feel more secure if they weren't stored in the same place as the laptop. He searched the room for a hiding place, without success, and finally tucked the drives behind the frame of the mirror above the dresser.

He packed everything else back into the backpack. Leaving his things out in plain sight, or even in a drawer that might be opened, just seemed too vulnerable. For all its pool and good food, garden access, comfortable clothes and bedding, and cheerful companions, this wasn't a hotel, it was a prison, or at least he was being prevented from leaving. He still didn't know why he was here, what was expected of him. And though he hadn't been punished or mistreated in any way, except for being kept against his will, he still didn't know what lay ahead for him. The khan was a traditional alpha, and he expected omega behavior — which, from what Jared understood, didn't include scholarship or agency or independence — and he might see Jared's computer and his work as something forbidden to omegas, and thus, to Jared. He'd already lost his freedom, at least until he could figure a way out of here. He didn't want to lose anything else that belonged to him. It just felt safer if it was out of sight. If anyone made even a half-hearted search, they could find the bag with his laptop and notes, but he shoved it back under the bed, up against the wall at the head of the bed, in the center. Maybe no one would notice it there. He tucked the duffel up next to it. He'd finish his laundry another day.

He pulled on a pair of the new soft trousers — they were like lounge pants, or pajama bottoms, drawstring waist and comfortably loose-fit — and a clean tank shirt, and crawled into bed. It still wasn't full dark outside, but the stars were starting to come out. Jared watched the dusk deepen for a while, and wished he had an electric outlet and an internet connection. Or a lamp and a book. Something to keep his mind occupied, so he could stop worrying about what might happen tomorrow night at dinner with the khan.

* * *

Misha led the boy into the living room. There was a sitting area with couch and comfortable chairs before the fire at one end of the long room. Bookcases lined the wall at the other end, where there was a large desk and chair. A table had been set before the doors to the courtyard, which were open now. The table was laid for two, china and glass gleaming in the candlelight that sparked off the silver. Jensen looked up from his desk as they entered, and gave a slight nod, and Misha withdrew. Malik moved to stand just outside the doors to the courtyard. It was so quiet the fountain could clearly be heard, and the sleepy cheeping of birds as they settled for the night in the plantings around the fountain. The plantings sent their fragrances into the room, and there was nothing else but the crackle of the fire and the skritch of Jensen's pen as he signed a few last papers. From under his lashes, he watched Jared fidget, then force himself to still and wait, and the hint of a smile crossed Jensen's features. The boy was learning.

He penned the last signature with a flourish and laid the pen aside, rising to greet his guest.

"Jared, I'm glad you came." He saw the boy bite back a retort, something to the effect, no doubt, that he'd had no choice, but ultimately, he merely nodded, and waited for Jensen to speak. "Come, sit. Let's talk a little." He moved toward the leather sofa before the fire, herding Jared in that direction. "So, how are you settling in?"

Oh yes, it was a loaded question, and Jensen was keen to know how Jared would respond. But the boy hesitated, and Jensen could see he was just not going to answer, so he gave him some options. "Is your room comfortable? Has everyone been helpful? Are you getting enough to eat?" He paused between questions, to give Jared a chance to answer, but still the boy sat silent, until Jensen finished, and it was clear he was waiting on some answer.

"Everyone's very nice," Jared said, his voice low and guarded.

"Well, that's good," Jensen said. "I see Misha's provided you with clothes — are they comfortable?"

The boy blushed, before he stammered, "Yes, I guess they're okay."

"Well, you certainly look stunning in them," Jensen smiled, and watched Jared's blush deepen. The dark blue silk hugged that perfect ass, and emphasized the length of Jared's legs. The pale aqua tunic, though made to measure, still strained a bit at the shoulder and across the chest, as it was meant to do, displaying the boy's many charms while it mimicked the blue in his eyes.

"Is there anything else you need?" He suspected Jared would launch a plea for his freedom, or for communication with his consulate, or with his family. So he was surprised when Jared glanced around the room, at the lamps that pooled light in corners and on table surfaces.

"Does my room have electricity?"

"What?"

"I'd like to be able to have a lamp, so I could read before I go to sleep."

"Oh. Why, yes, of course. I'm sure there are a couple of outlets in your room."

Jared managed a small smile. "Oh, good. And, could I ask..."

His gaze dropped, and he didn't finish, no doubt expecting that he wouldn't have another request granted. "Ask what, Jared? Anything I can do to help make you happy here with us."

The hazel eyes flashed up to his at that, but lowered as suddenly, and the boy managed a small smile. "Might I have a table and a chair in my room? It would be nice to be able to write, or draw, or to sit and read, sometimes."

"You draw?"

"A little. I did some elevations, and I plotted out the grid plan for the dig. And as an undergrad, I took a course in architecture, so..."

Jensen regarded him for a moment. "Not...artistic drawing, then?"

Jared shrugged. "I don't know, I've never tried. But it would be something to do."

Jensen flashed him a wide, benevolent smile. "Of course, Jared. You shall have your table and chair, and your lamp."

The boy's eyes lit up. It changed his whole face. It was more than worth generosity to see that happen.

"I'll have Misha see to it."

"Thank you!"

"By all means. Now, let's see what the kitchen has brought for us." He stood and held out a hand to Jared, who ignored it as he stood as well. Jensen moved toward the table, and Jared followed. Jensen couldn't help laying a hand lightly, low on the boy's back, as he steered him toward the table. He also couldn't help but notice Jared's sidestep away from his touch. Jensen didn't pursue it. There would be time for that, later on. He gestured toward the second chair, and lifted the silver domes off the plates. "Let's see what Samantha has for us this evening."

There was chicken, roasted with fingerling potatoes and tiny carrots, herbed wild rice pilaf, and a fresh green salad. More wine to drink, and everything looked and smelled marvelous. Jared's nervousness began to settle as he followed the khan's lead, in beginning on his meal. When Jensen tilted his head in inquiry, Jared managed a small smile.

"Everything's really good," he said, reaching for another sip of wine. Jensen smiled, and kept the conversation to inconsequentialities. There was fruit and cheese and coffee for dessert, and moments after Jared sipped the last from his cup, Misha appeared in response to Jensen's unobtrusive summons, to take Jared back to his room. When they had left the room, Jensen poured himself another cup of coffee and sat back in his chair, smiling.

"That went well."

 

* * *

Jared had expected that Chad would have joined them for dinner, and while he hadn't quite dare ask where the other omega was, his imagination conjured up scenes from bad bondage films to images of sybaritic Roman orgies that had kept Chad away from dinner — and really, Jared would rather just not go there.

The khan did keep his word, though. The table and chair were delivered the next day, and Misha helped Jared place them beside his bed, with the lamp where it would be best for both working at the table, and reading in bed. An outlet was found, in the baseboard under the head of the bed. Jared got down flat on his stomach to search under there, and with a yip of glee, announced its presence. Once plugged in, the lamp worked well, Misha reported, and Jared was pleased and grateful. Once Misha had left, Jared went on a search, and located four other outlets in the room. So if he got bored with nothing else to do and decided to rearrange the furniture, he laughed sourly to himself, he could plug in his laptop charger in other locations.

He hand-washed another sinkful of clothes and left them hanging to dry, and went for his swim. Shower after, dinner in the common room, and back to his room again in the evening. He got out his laptop and pulled up the document containing his thesis. He began to read over it, editing it lightly as he read. It didn't take long for him to sink into his task, and his present circumstances faded as he concentrated on the work.

Chad returned to the omega quarters, looking very content and pleased with himself. A few days later, Katie was missing from their midst. And Jared began to understand that this was life for an omega, in Umara. He forced down the little premonitory twist of dread, and added laps to his runs and his swims, and focused more intently on editing and revising his thesis. He didn't have time for speculation, especially about something that was by no means yet certain. But his mind ran the calculations, anyway. And he couldn't avoid the knowledge that the inhibitor implant he'd gotten before he left for the dig was approaching its expiration date.

 

* * *

Tahmoh and Malik both reported to Jensen that Jared had started bringing his laptop out to work on the table, or when he wasn't tapping away at the keyboard, he was scribbling in one or another of his notebooks, usually late, after the other omegas had settled for bed and he wouldn't be interrupted. Jared took care to avoid displaying what he was doing to anyone, though of course Tahmoh and Malik knew from observation. He always put everything away before going to bed, packed carefully in the backpack, which he was still keeping out of sight under his bed.

"He gets up well before breakfast, every morning," Tahmoh reported. "And practices Tai Chi in the garden before doing some targeted stretching. He goes back to the garden after breakfast, and after walking among the plants, paying attention to the fruit trees, the flowers, and the herbs for a while, he runs laps around the garden, beside the wall, for nearly an hour." Jensen nodded for the guard to continue. "He runs back to his room and showers, before he has lunch. After a rest, he swims laps for almost another hour."

"Every day?" Jensen asked.

Tahmoh nodded. "Yes, khan. Without fail. Later in the afternoons, before supper, he does pushups on the floor in his room, and situps, and crunches." The guard captain's voice held a note of admiration, but he considered his khan's expression before adding, "He's very committed."

Jensen gazed into the middle distance, imagining the tall young omega, sweat soaking his hair and dripping off his impressive muscles as he went through his daily exercize routine. He swallowed, and nodded. "Yes, it would seem so."

The captain bowed, and at Jensen's nod of dismissal, left the room, leaving Jensen to contemplate his mental images, rather imaginatively, and at some length.

 

There were more invitations to dinner, and, while Jared was grateful enough to come at the first invitation, and to make an effort to be pleasant, Jensen read him well enough to plainly see that Jared was not softening, not becoming pliant and, _needy_ , towards his alpha, unlike the nature of most omegas.

Realizing Jared hadn't grown up in a strong culture of alpha dominance and omega receptiveness, Jensen tried to take things slowly. But each visit felt to him as if they were starting over, every time. Jared maintained the physical distance between them, although Jensen stood closer, with a hand on the boy's back, or arm, or moving in until their faces were only inches apart, telling jokes to get him laughing — and Jensen could tell Jared was only laughing out of politeness and obligation. So far, Jensen hadn't been able to find common enough ground for Jared to understand, let alone share, his sense of humor.

Jensen sighed. Jared was still eeling out of attempts to embrace him, drifting away from the touches, the attempts at establishing physical intimacy and emotional connection. Jensen was frustrated, at an impasse. He didn't want to force the boy, but the possibility was beginning to seem more and more likely as time went by. Jensen tried to wait, patiently. Surely Jared would come into heat, soon. And when he did, his omega nature would be unable to resist Jensen, in fact, resisting would be the last thing he would want. The urge to mate would increase, until it overpowered everything. And Jared would be Jensen's, at last.

But until then, Jared came to dinner two or three evenings a week. Jensen quickly learned to note the blankness and lack of interest behind the omega's polite expression when Jensen spoke about his duties as khan, his pursuits and interests in daily life.

Determined to provoke some response, some interest from Jared, Jensen began to inquire about Jared's experience on the dig. As the boy opened up and became more animated, Jensen offered some insight into the items that had been recovered, the probable uses of some of the implements, and the customs surrounding their use. Jared asked perceptive questions, and requested pen and paper to make notes as Jensen talked. Taken aback a little, Jensen waved a hand at his desk, and Jared sat in his chair and found paper and a pencil, and started writing.

Once or twice he asked for clarification, or elaboration. His comments were not only perceptive, but intuitively interpretive, and Jensen was impressed at the font of knowledge Jared had accumulated about Jensen's own country, even if it was knowledge of ancient times and not present day. Jensen watched Jared's eyes come alive, spark with interest. He watched greedily for the expressions animating Jared's features as he asked questions, made connections, scribbled a note or two. Jared sketched a rough diagram of the dig, and beckoned Jensen closer, indicating points on the sketch and asking specific questions about items that had been found at those points. He asked for a larger sheet of paper, and drew a larger version of the dig, making corrections from the diagram, with notations and sketches of the items, both as they had been found, and after Jensen had identified an item and its function, little sketches of the items in use.

They were more than two hours into a deep, exploratory and expansive discussion when Misha entered and stood silently beside the door. Jensen resented the interruption, and finished his explanation, making sure Jared nodded in comprehension and was scribbling a few lines in his notes before he turned to the beta with some annoyance.

"What is it?"

"It's late, khan. I was wondering if Jared would be staying the night?"

Jensen's breath caught in a sudden surge of desire, but he quickly recovered himself, schooling his face to neutrality as he turned to Jared.

The omega stared at him, panic clear in his expression and the lines of his body. Jensen's heart sank, even as his cock stirred. He could command it, of course. But one look at Jared told him that would undo all the progress toward understanding and intimacy he and Jared had made this evening. Still, he had to give the boy a chance to answer, one way or the other. "Jared?"

The omega swallowed; the movement of his Adam's apple made the golden padlock at his throat gleam in the lamplight. His eyes searched Jensen's features, trying to decide if he was allowed to refuse. Whatever he saw there enabled him to drop his gaze to the papers on the desk, and he started gathering them together. "I thank you," he began, getting his voice under control after the first word or two. "But I should get back and work on these notes." Jared stood, and forced a smile. "Thank you so much for the discussion. What you've told me helps explain a lot about some of the questions we had. I appreciate the chance to talk about it." He stood where he was, waiting to be told whether or not he could go.

After a moment, Jensen nodded, and let a regretful smile cross his features. "Of course," he said, and nodded at Misha. "I enjoyed our time, too." He could almost feel Jared relax as he moved to follow Misha. "Perhaps we can do it again, sometime soon." He made it a question, an invitation, and was pleased at the slight smile, and nod of agreement. "Goodnight, Jared."

"Goodnight."

 

Jensen didn't quite understand what was going on with him. Even Misha was giving him puzzled looks. Omegas had always been receptive, compliant, eager to join him in bed. Jensen knew he was considered handsome, and a skilled lover, that his omegas bragged to each other about the time they spent with him. There had been arguments, resentments, even fights, if he played favorite too long with any one of them. There had always been a healthy rotation of beautiful and willing omegas in the khan's bed, and now Jensen was surprised to find himself focused so exclusively on Jared that he realized that, though he did his duty with those who asked by seeing them through their heats, none of the other omegas held his interest now, not even a little.

But, neither was he prepared for resistance from the omega he did desire. He was khan, the alpha, it was his right to take, to own, to use and care for. With any other omega, Jensen wouldn't have given the time and the space to acclimate that he had already allowed to Jared. But Jensen was reluctant to force the issue. He didn't want Jared in his bed by the khan's command. He had no doubt that would be an enjoyable mating, at least on his part. But he wanted Jared to come to him of his own desire. Jensen wanted Jared to want his alpha, to want the union between them, on his own. There were times when force was enjoyable, when an omega insisted on wooing and pursuit before they were conquered and finally submitted, but this was not such a time. Jensen's thoughts often strayed to Jared, to the strength and focus the omega possessed, independent of his khan; he wanted that focus on him, and willingly.

Jared was very different than any other omega Jensen had known. Whether it was his upbringing, the oddly lax and permissive society he'd grown up in, or something innate to his individual nature, Jared obviously did not feel the attraction and pull of an omega toward his alpha, his mate. That felt very wrong to Jensen.

 

From Misha and Tahmoh and Malik, Jensen heard that Jared was getting on well with the other omegas. He spent time with them, shared meals, played in the pool, even spent a little time in the nursery, where he seemed particularly fond of Eisha, Jensen's little beta by an omega who was no longer part of the household. But the men who spent time close to him observed, and mentioned to Jensen, that Jared didn't seem attracted to any of the omegas, either the girls or the boys. Affectionate, and even loving, in a way, nonetheless, Jared's lack of sexual interest was obvious. It was a puzzle. Jensen had never heard of this sort of behavior in any omega. He was left to think that Jared's childhood and adolescence lived, to all intents and purposes, as a beta, might well be responsible.

Jensen continued to invite Jared to dinner, and worked to build an affection between them, even if it was merely a platonic relationship, for now. Eventually the boy's heat would start, and Jared himself would seek to change that relationship to a sexual one. Jensen steeled himself to wait.

 

 


	4. Hostage | J2 AU NC-17

 

Life in the palace became increasingly familiar. There was an easy comfort about it, and a gentle comraderie among the other omegas, which folded Jared in like he belonged. It was tempting to give in to that comfort, to accept it, accept the life he was bound to, now. But as beautiful as his surroundings were, as easy and comfortable as his life was, as happy and welcoming were the people he lived with, Jared couldn't succumb. He couldn't just let go of who he was, of the life he had worked to build, of the promise his future had once held. He couldn't make himself accept and believe that life was forever closed to him now.

He missed the University, and his work there. He enjoyed the classroom, and got a charge out of seeing a student suddenly grasp an idea or make a connection. He even enjoyed grading papers — at least, the ones where students had actually done the work. Though there were times when a student tried to bluff his or her way through an assignment, or a test, that were so bad they were funny.

His hopes and plans had been to continue as Dr. O's TA until his thesis was accepted, and his masters degree was attained. Breaking into teaching, even at the lowest level, wasn't easy. Schools everywhere were downsizing their faculties because fewer students were enrolling — and those who did enroll were primarily interested in business curriculums. Not many kids out of high school wanted to be archeologists or anthropologists, these days. An omega might have an apparent disadvantage, but Jared's lifelong management of his heats would go a long way to cancel that objection, and with his background working at Knox, Jared might possibly have an edge getting into the teaching field. Not that it paid a great deal, at least to start, but he'd learned he enjoyed teaching, and he could see himself doing that for years to come.

His mind shied away now from thoughts of Omundson, though. He wasn't prepared to deal with the rage and hurt the doctor's betrayal and abandonment had caused. Even now, weeks later, there lurked in Jared's heart a faint hope that Dr. O would return and ransom him, pay what he owed to the khan, and free Jared from the debt his life was hostage for. He admitted, as day after day passed and there was no word, no inkling from the khan that Omundson had contacted him to arrange Jared's ransom, that such a rescue was increasingly unlikely. But he wasn't prepared to give up all hope, not yet.

So in his plans and dreams for his projected future, Jared skipped over the doctor's part — surely another professor would be eager, or at least willing, to take Jared on as TA, to work through the time needed to submit his thesis and wait on the verdict of its acceptance, or rejection. He needed the help of an advisor, but even without that, Jared thought the work was solid, and his experience here at the dig had to add weight to his work. So, once he was back at the U, he could still continue as a teaching assistant until he received his masters'. And then, with his TA experience to pad his CV, he could search for actual teaching positions.

On the other hand, he might decide to go into pure research. There was fierce competition for what few openings there were, but with Jared's academic record, he had hopes this field experience in Umara would weight his chances. He snorted at that idea as he walked among the herb borders, his fingers trailing through blades of lemongrass waving in the breeze, and a stand of Russian sage so pungent a part of him wanted to drop down and roll in it, like a cat. He grinned a little at the notion, and walked on into the shadow of a broadleafed shade tree. If he ever got out of here, his time at the dig might help his employment chances. But right now, that was looking more and more like a big if.

The scents of the plants, the sound of their leaves rustling in the slight wind, and the glorious colors of the garden helped soothe him. But they also brought back memories of his mom, and his family, and his heart ached with missing them. He wanted to talk to them, hear their voices — see their faces, if video was possible. And, he thought practically, there was always the possibility, if they couldn't get him out right away, they'd at least be able to send him heat suppressants. As his inhibitor implant grew closer to the end of its effectiveness, he was becoming concerned.

 

"Khan," he asked one evening when they had finished dinner. The man had stepped away to pour a drink, and Jared was searching the shelves for English titles among the book spines. The khan turned toward him, expression indulgent, content after a good meal and a few glasses of wine. Jared could admire the man's beauty, the broad shoulders, the chiseled features, the green eyes and the generous shape of the mouth, even if he felt no desire for him.

"Hmm?"

"You promised me, some time past, that I would be able to contact my family." Jared left the question hanging in the air, waiting for the khan's answer.

"Yes, that's true. I did." Jared's heart leapt with hope, only to be dashed with the khan's next words. "That time hasn't yet come." Jared struggled to hide his disappointment, but he knew the khan saw it. He reached a finger under Jared's chin, lifting, compelling him to meet the khan's eyes. "Though, I will keep my promise. When the time is right."

Jared risked displeasure by pressing. "And when will that be?"

The features clouded, as Jared had known they would. "When I say, boy. When I say."

Jared turned away to hide the sudden tears and the irrepressible anger he was sure was clear in his face.

"Jared." There was admonition in the khan's tone, and as much as Jared wanted to ignore it, he turned back to face the man. "I don't understand your persistent desire to contact your family."

That forced Jared's glance up to the khan's face, which wore a slight puzzled expression. On the chance it really was honest confusion, Jared explained, "I miss them. I love them, and I want to talk to them. I want to be with them, but that's apparently not going to happen." He darted another look, and the khan just shook his head gently, in the negative, so he continued. "I was supposed to return weeks ago. They were expecting me, and since I so unexpectedly didn't arrive, and haven't even spoken with them, they'll be missing me, worried about me. It's upsetting to think of them worrying, when it would be so simple for all of us to feel better, if we had the chance to communicate."

The khan thought for a moment before he spoke. "But, surely, they have been informed of your mating. There is no cause for concern, they know you've made an advantageous and enviable match, and you are highly valued and being well cared for." The words ended with khan's indulgent smile, as though Jared should be pleased and content with the khan's value of him, and care.

Jared stared, his mouth open a little in surprise, and the inability to find words. Until he did. "They are my family. Even — even _if_ I had met someone and decided, after weeks, or even months of getting to know them, to — to marry, or mate, I would have brought the person home to introduce them. I would have met their family — we would all have gotten to know each other before making the relationship formal and permanent. There would have been a ceremony, with my mom and sister planning for weeks ahead of time, with all our friends and families there, and a party afterward to celebrate."

Jared felt he was speaking a foreign language, that the khan really wasn't understanding what he was trying to say. "In our culture, if our jobs are somewhere far away from our families, we still stay in touch — by phone, or skype, or video chat, even email — however we can. I wouldn't have been just — taken away from them. We would still... I would still — " He'd thought he had control of the tears building, until suddenly they flooded his sight and choked his voice. He covered his face with his hands and turned away, trying bitterly to stifle the sobs.

 

The khan stood where he was, stonily waiting for him to regain control of his emotions. After a few minutes, when Jared had partially regained his composure and managed to look up, wiping at his eyes and wishing he had a handkerchief, the man was completely expressionless, though for a second Jared thought he saw a glimmer of sympathy in the green eyes. Jared mumbled an apology and a request to cut the evening short. The khan nodded, agreement or permission, and Jared thanked him and turned to leave. He didn't see the glance between the khan and his guard, but Malik was soon at his heels.

Angry with himself at having been provoked into losing his composure, Jared wanted to pound something, but instead, the minute the palace door closed behind him, he shed his tunic and pants on the tile edging and dove into the pool, letting the chill of the water dull some of his emotions, and focused the rest on slicing mindlessly through the water. Several laps later, he flipped onto his back and gazed up at the moon — the same moon that shone down on his family at home, on his friends at school, on the rest of the world outside these walls. He sent up a silent cry to that moon, that he be heard, and not forgotten, here in this place of implacable softness and ebbing will.

Malik stood in the shadows, watching, and wondering what thoughts ran through the mind of this unconventional omega, and why he found it so difficult to surrender to his alpha.

* * *

Jared turned to the other omegas for company, getting to know each of them better, watching them interact with each other, and with betas like Misha, and Vicki, who supervised the nursery. Jared was surprised to learn that Vicki and Misha were mates, and two of the children in the nursery were theirs, a beta girl, just beginning to talk, and an infant boy, also beta. Katie's little girl was an alpha, and Genevieve's infant boy appeared to be an omega, but they wouldn't be sure until he was about eighteen months old.

Jared learned how early the assignments were determined, but then in Rirajistan itself, and particularly here in Umara, sexual roles were rigidly maintained. After the first few carefree years, children who would be barely preschool age where Jared was from were guided into their destined paths. Training began early.

 

When Jared mentioned to Vicki that such rigid definition seemed harsh, and allowed for no self exploration and discovery, she answered him thoughtfully. "I had never thought about it that way. I think in our country, one's individual satisfaction comes from learning what is expected of one, and performing those duties to the best that one can."

She rubbed circles on the back of the infant on her shoulder, encouraging a post-meal burp. "I think we are less focused on ourselves, individually, and more on what's good, what is best, for the family." The baby gave a hearty belch, and she smiled. "If we all do our part, if we each do what we're meant to do, the whole family works as it's supposed to. Everyone knows their place, and what's expected of them." She laid the baby across her lap and checked his diaper, reaching to the stack beside her for a fresh one.

"No one is asked to do more, or less, than they're capable of doing, and everybody feels the reward of success." She powdered the tiny butt and put on the fresh diaper, dropping the soiled one into the lidded bin.

"Each person supports the others: the alphas protect the family, deal with the alphas of other families. Betas run the households and the offices, do business and perform tasks as instructed by the alphas. Did you know that I'm responsible for all the omegas and all the children? I keep inventory and order supplies, keep calendars of the children's birthdays and the omegas' heats, and dozens of other tasks that Misha and the khan trust me to do well. Misha's responsible for the household and all of the staff in the same way. We answer to our alpha, but he trusts us to carry out our responsibilities, unless there's a problem we can't solve on our own." She tucked the tiny arms into the sleeves of a fresh shirt, and smoothed the wrinkles out over the small back as she raised the infant to her shoulder again.

"It's omegas who provide warmth and softness, in a world that can be sharp-edged and harsh. Omegas give life, and keep the family growing." She smiled at Jared. "We all have our part to play. We all take care of each other, and are taken care of, in turn. Isn't that good? Isn't that the best way to live?"

She certainly seemed content with her life, and Jared took a long, hard look at everyone he knew in the khan's household. Misha appeared to enjoy his work, and the omegas all seemed happy and content with their lives. They behaved like siblings, no matter where each of them had come from, they were all family now. The only other people he knew here were Malik and Tahmoh, and both guards were evidently proud of the trust placed in them, and were dedicated to their jobs, and to their alpha. Vicki spoke truth for these people. At least, as far as Jared could see.

But Jared hadn't grown up in this society. He hadn't been guided from an early age into a pre-determined path, from which he wasn't allowed to wander. His experience had been far different, and he couldn't see how he could conform and accept the narrow way he was being forced into.

He was more than an omega, bound to soft obedience and bearing children, but here, he would have no chance, no choice, but to accept that role. And he didn't know if he could do that.

 

Jared scratched idly at his arm; the skin felt dry and itchy, probably a reaction from all the time he spent in the pool. He asked Vicki if she had something to soothe it, and she produced a pot of cream that smelled of honey and herbs. He used it after his shower, and it helped. At first.

* * *

"Jared." Jensen eyed the omega over the rim of his wineglass. Dinner had been superb and he was feeling comfortably sated. Jared's appetite seemed a little off, but he had finished most of his meal. He glanced at Jensen, waiting for him to continue. "You had begun to tell me a little about how society works where you are from, the differences in culture between what you've grown up with, and how things are here."

Jared nodded.

"You've learned what family is to us: that the alpha is the head of our family, and what kind of responsibilities the betas have." He paused to make sure Jared was listening, and when Jared looked up and met his gaze, he spoke his next words in a gentle but persuasive tone. "Omegas are the heart of our family, Jared. They bring a soft nature, acceptance, love. They come to our family from other houses, and become part of the family — this is their family now, they owe no more allegiance to the house of their birth."

Jared stirred and it seemed like he might protest, but Jensen said calmly, "This is the way our families are made, here. This is our culture. You understand?"

Jared met his eyes again, and glanced away, nodding.

"I know this is not what you were used to, but you're a part of my family now. Whatever duties you accepted or accomplishments you strived for before you became mine, you are relieved of those, now."

Jensen saw the flutter of Jared's eyelids and the catch in his breath, but he said nothing, and Jensen went on. "Your only duty now is to be loving to all members of your family, to accept our ways, and, if god so grants, to bring children into our family."

Jared stood so fast he rattled the dishes in front of him, and took a quick step, several, away from the table. "I — I can't." He sounded like he was forcing the words out over broken glass, and his body was strung tight as a bowstring. He put a little distance between them, and looked up, shaking his head. "I can't do that."

Jensen stood too, but remained where he was, and kept his voice calm. "This is your duty," he insisted.

Jared was pacing, now, fingers of one hand hooked in the collar at his throat, the other hand pushing through his hair in agitation. "I never asked for this." He spoke as if he was talking, not to Jensen, but to himself. "I never wanted it. I made plans — plans to avoid it, to live my life differently."

"Those plans have changed, Jared." Jensen was prepared to be patient, but he wondered if authority at this point might be wiser than gentleness. "You are here. You are my omega. You will do what is expected of you."

"I'm not _yours!_ " the words burst from him. "I don't _belong_ to anybody! I'm my own person, with my own life, my own goals — "

Concerned at Jared's growing agitation, and growing somewhat tired of the display, Jensen put a note of command in his tone. "You do now!" he snapped, and it had the effect of stopping Jared in his tracks. Eyes wide on Jensen now, he shook his head in denial.

"This wasn't supposed to happen." His voice was little more than a whisper, and his gaze was increasingly unfocused. "This was never supposed to happen."

"Never?" Jensen scoffed. "Come now, Jared. You've always known that at some point an alpha would claim you. That you would feel a bond, would want a mate, and a home, and family."

Unnaturally still, gaze inward, voice barely audible, Jared said, "I have a family. You took me away from them."

"I mean your _own_ family, Jared. Yours, that you make with your alpha. That you're going to make here, with me. I don't know why you're resisting me. Don't you know that I'm going to take exquisite care of you? Making love to you is going to be wonderful, for both of us, you'll see."

Jared's features twisted, he'd grown pale and now he actually looked sick. He backed away even more, hands out as if to push Jensen away, shaking his head side to side. "No. Don't. I don't want that. I've never wanted it. Please."

"Never?" There was a wry twist to Jensen's lips, his disbelief apparent. "Oh, come, Jared. Tell me you've never had a sweetheart. Of course I don't mean anything more than an embrace, and perhaps a stolen kiss or two." He smiled, thinking of how sweet a younger Jared must have been, tasting another's lips for the first time. "But surely you've wondered how it would feel to be wrapped in someone's arms, to be free to kiss them, to touch them all over, and have them touch you? Surely your heats have been full of desires, of dreams of being filled, and satisfied, and treasured — ?"

"Stop. Please stop. Please." Jared's features were stark white, his arms wrapped around his middle, his posture hunched in on himself. His voice was nothing but a raspy, desperate whisper. "I've never had heats," he confessed. "Not one. I never wanted that. _Never._ " Jensen regarded him in growing horror as he said, "I made sure that would never happen." He turned wide, empty eyes and a blank expression on Jensen. "Let me talk to my family. Please. I'm begging you."

Everything went very still. Jensen chose his words carefully, and asked into a tense silence, "You made sure? How did you make sure?"

Perhaps he was tired of holding himself tensed and still, perhaps there was the tiniest amount of relief in having confessed something he'd kept unspoken, perhaps there was even a little hope that, now that Jensen knew the truth, he wouldn't want Jared, that he'd let him go. Whatever it was, Jared relaxed, a little. He stood straighter, took a breath and sighed it out. He met Jensen's gaze directly, and replied. "I've been on heat inhibitors since I was eight. I knew even then I would never want a mate, never want kids. I knew that sort of life held no interest for me, and I wanted to focus on school and working in my field. So I did what I needed to do to get it."

It was Jensen's turn to go white and still. "You lie."

"It's the truth."

"Your family would never allow — "

"My family did what was best for me. They made sure I was safe, and healthy, and they let me — no, they encouraged me to pursue my dreams. My family love me, and I love them. I miss them."

Every word Jared uttered added to Jensen's horror and revulsion. That such despicable things had been done to an omega — to Jared — left Jensen incapable of containing his reaction. He exploded in anger and something that felt like betrayal.

"Do you have any idea what suppressants do to an omega's body? Do you? Do you know what can happen — and your _family,_ " he was so angry he was spitting. "That _loves_ you _so much_ , they let you risk damaging your body by suppressing your heats?" His disbelief increased the longer he thought about it. _"Since you were a child?"_

Disgust and anger rolling through him left Jensen unable to stay still. He paced the length of half the room and back, hand across his mouth. His disbelief that any responsible adult could allow such treatment for an omega child warred with Jared's story, backed up by his blatant disinterest and avoidance of his role as an omega. Fear and disappointment sparked bright in Jensen — he had desired Jared from the moment he had realized the boy was an omega. What if the drugs had done harm? What if Jensen's plans for mating and children and a happy life with Jared had been ruined before they'd even begun? When Jensen was finally able to speak again, anger still curdled his voice, and disgust for adults who would allow an omega child to be treated so. "Your family — your alpha — "

"My dad and sister are alphas, my mom and brother are betas. I'm the only omega, in about four generations," Jared informed him tonelessly. "Surprise."

Jensen didn't hear Jared's tone; he was too caught up in the horror and disgust of what had been done to this unwitting omega. "They should have known better!"

He halted, and took a good look at Jared. He looked tired, drained. He swayed a bit on his feet, and Jensen's anger ebbed somewhat, subdued by a little guilt for blowing up at him, and reducing his omega to this state. His voice was lower, softer, with a kinder note when he said again, "They should have known better, Jared. Suppressants can ruin an omega's ability to have normal heats. Used over an extended period, they can cause infertility. They prevent natural omega emotions and well-adjusted personality development. They're a bad thing, Jared, and I'm sorry they were used on you."

The boy scrubbed his face with both hands, and shook his head. "They aren't suppressants, they're inhibitors, and they're perfectly safe. My parents did their research, and so did I. We talked to doctors, to specialists, and checked every drug and its properties backwards and forwards. My parents would never have allowed anything that would harm me. But they knew I was determined to follow my dreams, and they always supported me. You can't say they damaged me. They didn't. They saved me, from a life I never wanted." Jared stopped on a sob.

"I miss them so damned much."

Jensen wanted to move nearer, put his arms around the omega, pull him close and comfort him. But he was realizing now that shyness hadn't been the reason Jared had always stepped away from a hand on his shoulder, or an arm about his waist. It wasn't restraint, and lack of familiarity, that had caused Jared to deflect hints and attempts to lead conversations toward mating, and having children, becoming a family. Jared didn't want that with Jensen. He didn't want it at all, he never had.

The knowledge rocked Jensen, left his plans in such a state he didn't know if they could be sorted out. At this moment, he wasn't sure he wanted to try. He became aware that Misha was standing just inside the door, no doubt summoned by their raised voices, to see if there was anything he could do to smooth things over. Jared seemed unaware of Misha. He seemed almost entirely focused inward right now, weary and heartsore at missing his family. Jensen beckoned to Misha. "Take Jared back to his room."

The boy looked up at that, and Jensen told him, "We'll talk again. Good night, Jared. Go with Misha."

Jared moved toward the door, and as he passed Jensen he hesitated, but didn't look up or meet Jensen's gaze. "Good night," he said, and followed the beta out.

* * *

Well, at least the truth was out, now, Jared thought, slipping out of his shoes and tunic. He sank to the floor and started another set of pushups — his third today. The repetition helped him focus the thoughts spinning in his head. Maybe now that the khan knew, he'd realize Jared was a bad omega. No point in keeping him here any longer, since he'd never be the breeder the khan had obviously planned and hoped for. Jared allowed himself to imagine Misha coming to fetch him tomorrow morning, telling him to pack his things, that someone would drive him to Andawar, to the airport. He could be back home tomorrow — or the next day, or by the end of the week.

Hair soaked and body streaked with sweat, Jared switched to crunches, while he imagined the call he would make from Andawar to let his mom and dad know he was coming home, what they would look like when he spotted them at the airport, how their arms would feel around him, how tight he would hug them and how hard it would be to let them go. He imagined his little sister in his arms, the smell of that shampoo she loved, the sound of her laughter.

Dripping now, he stripped, rinsed off in a quick, cold shower and, not bothering with trunks, he strode to the edge of the pool and dived in. He swam strongly, lap after lap, feeling the muscles work as he pulled himself through the water. His mind stopped spinning as fatigue finally began to take its toll, and he rolled onto his back and stroked more slowly as his heart rate slowed. Calmer now, he hauled himself out of the pool, went to his room to towel off, and fell into bed.

Jared knew he'd dreamed, he woke with the fading memory of running, and he was drenched in sweat as though he really had been. Daylight pricked at his eyes, too bright, and he buried his face in the pillow, until the sweaty, unwashed smell of it gagged him and made him stumble up and to the bathroom. He stood in a hot shower for long minutes. The usually pleasant scent of the soap wasn't, it was rank, and he gave up on washing and just let the water run over him until he felt reasonably awake. Reaching for a towel, his arms and shoulders ached, in fact, he ached all over — down his back, his hips, the backs of his legs. He pulled on a pair of soft pants and headed for the garden, dry towel in his hand, and Tahmoh silent at his back.

He found his favorite grassy patch and went through his Tai Chi routine. He broke a sweat much sooner than usual, but the slow fluidity of movement did loosen up those parts of him that felt strung too tight. He spread out his towel and did a few yoga positions. That didn't go as well; his balance was off, for some reason. He pushed through a final sun salute, and picked up the towel.

Another shower, a short one, and he turned the temperature down to tepid because the hot water felt like needles on his skin. He toweled off gently. The fabric felt a lot coarser than usual, though it looked the same. Dressed again in soft pants and a black tank, his belly cramped as he went to the common room for breakfast. He must be hungrier than usual. Nothing smelled right, though. The fruit was bitter, and he couldn't drink the coffee he'd campaigned so hard to get.

The chatter and laughter of the others in the room was too loud, annoying, and his forehead furrowed in distaste. He pushed his plate away and stood, weaving a bit on his feet. His head hurt, and his guts were cramping, now. He felt like crap. He scratched at his arms and neck, peering at his skin to make sure there weren't insects crawling on him. In spite of two showers, he itched, everywhere.

He had to get rid of this — whatever it was. He was coming out of his skin, turning inside out. He stumbled toward the garden, and never noticed when Tahmoh beckoned Chad over and spoke to him. Chad left in haste, and Tahmoh caught up to Jared in a few steps. Jared never noticed. He just dropped into a jog as soon as he passed the garden gate, starting his first lap on the track beside the garden wall, and then another, and another.

He'd lost count of his circuits when he staggered to a halt, gasping. Fatigue should have him falling on his face by now, but _it didn't help_. It still felt like ants were moving inside his skin, between him and the air. His gut twisted, and he lashed out, as he hadn't ever done before, with his fists. The tree stood in his way, thick trunk wrapped in rough bark, and he would batter his way through it, he would —

His fist was caught in a grip that gave not an inch. He tugged his arm away from it, his shoulder bunched and flexed with the effort, but the grip held steady, tenacious, unshakeable.

"Jared." A voice breathed in his ear, a voice laden with an edge, a power he couldn't dismiss or ignore. "Jared, stop." Arms went around him like a constrictor, pinning his own arms to his sides, immobile, impotent, a solid wall of muscle at his back. Even when he twisted in the arms' grip, writhed to free himself, they held tight. "Stop it, now."

No. No, he wouldn't. He couldn't. He roared his defiance, his confusion, his frustration. Whatever was inside him still pushed, making his breath sob in his throat, sawing in and out of his chest. He bent double, trying to throw off the arms, but he was held fast, and the voice continued to speak to him while there was movement, and other voices, and then a cup was held to his lips, his chin forced up, his nostrils pinched, and he swallowed, to keep from drowning. He tried to twist and escape again, but the cup returned, and now he drank from it, eagerly, the liquid spilling down his chin as he gulped at it, and a blessed lassitude overtook him.

The arms around him loosened, and he would have fallen, but there were other arms now, a deeper voice, and a green, green gaze that looked all the way down deep inside him. "Jared. I've got you. It'll be okay, now. It's all going to be okay."

No. No, it wouldn't. Nothing would ever be okay again, but Jared couldn't make the words, couldn't force them into the air, and they evaporated into nothingness as he slid into blackness, himself.

  


 


	5. Hostage | J2 AU NC-17

** **

 

Jensen hadn't slept well. Last night's... he didn't know what to call the evening he had spent with Jared. An altercation? Argument? Disagreement? Whatever it was, it had left him unsettled and upset. He disciplined himself to finish his breakfast and to deal with the business matters on his desk, though what he wanted was to call the omega to him and... ****

And what? Continue the argument? Command behavior that Jared was, plainly, fiercely resistant to? Or even the possibility, though Jensen had never heard of such a thing, that Jared might not be capable of complying? No, it was better to let things settle, for a little while. Maybe with some distance and a clearer head, he could think a way through to some resolution that wasn't hateful to one of them, or the other.

He had made some headway through the pile of paperwork when Misha was suddenly at his door. "Come quickly," he said, urgently. "Jared. In the garden."

Misha hesitated only long enough to see that Jensen was coming before he turned to retrace his steps. Vicki met him inside the seraglio, and handed him a cup and a small stoppered bottle. Jensen nodded at her, and headed immediately toward the garden, where he could hear Jared's voice, in obvious distress.

Jensen smelled him before he was in sight; Tahmoh had him in a tight embrace, and was trying to talk calmly to him, but the omega was struggling to get free, sobbing for breath and babbling nonsense. He bent forward, nearly double, trying to throw Tahmoh off, and Misha poured a dose from bottle to cup, stoppering the bottle and dropping it in a pocket. Tahmoh stood Jared up, holding him with obvious effort, and Misha quickly stepped in, pinched Jared's nostrils with fingers of one hand, and guided the cup to his lips with the other. At least some of the cordial went into his mouth, and Jensen reached to hold his mouth shut, while Misha still held Jared's nose. Jared swallowed, and most of the mouthful went down, though some dribbled from the corners of his lips. He shook his head, and Jensen and Misha both took their hands away. Tahmoh eased Jared into Jensen's arms and turned loose of him, but stayed close to help, and Misha poured another dose. Jared didn't resist this one, but drank it down, and his protests faded to nothing more than a murmur. He slumped boneless in Jensen's arms, and Tahmoh slid under one arm, Jensen the other, and together they walked Jared out of the garden. Chad and the other omegas watched, arms about one another, and Vicki stood watching, too, as Jared was walked out of the seraglio. From there, Misha led the way to the khan's private rooms.

 

Tahmoh eased out from under Jared's arm as they laid him on the bed. Jensen smiled gratefully and slapped the guard on the shoulder.

"Well done, captain, thank you. Why don't you take the day off, you and Ben? You've earned it." Jared's scent was dizzyingly arousing to Jensen now; it must be affecting Tahmoh, too. He had shown iron control of his response, but he was no doubt in need of his beta mate. Both he and Ben would would enjoy a break from duty for the day.

"You have only to call, my khan," Tahmoh gave a slight nod and smiled his thanks.

"I know. Now go on. Enjoy some time with your mate."

Misha waited just inside the room, the cup in his hand still sticky with cordial. "Tahmoh scented him, and sent Chad to find me," he said, and Jensen had another reason to thank the alpha captain of his guards. "Can I bring you anything? Do you need me to stay nearby?"

Jensen smiled. "I think we'll be okay. Thank you too, Misha." He gestured at the cup. "Quick thinking on your part to use the cordial."

Misha shrugged, and smiled a little. "Ah no, that was Vicki. Smart, my mate."

Jensen nodded agreement. "As you say. Thank her for me."

Misha pulled the bottle from his pocket and set it and the cup on the bedside table. "Just in case it's needed. I'll have your lunch sent here in a little while."

When Jensen nodded, Misha gave a little smile and left the khan alone with his mate.

The cordial had done its work. Made from fermented fruit juices and laced with poppy, it was a traditional remedy, used to soothe over anxious omegas, especially those frightened, even those previously abused. Just a little in a glass of tea or other drink relaxed a nervous omega, eased their fears, and heightened their senses and their sexual responses. Jared had taken a full dose — twice. Jensen regarded him now, far from fully conscious, and in the full throes of what, he knew now from last night's conversation, was the omega's first heat.

Jensen should have suspected something was different last night. Jared's behavior had been so unlike his usual reserved, respectful demeanor. No wonder the boy had been so emotional, so outspoken. He had pushed Jensen far more than he would have allowed, from anyone else, but Jensen had considered the differences in their cultures. Jared's emotions, he saw now, had been at the mercy of the hormone storm of his oncoming heat.

Usually, an alpha could detect slight changes in an omega's scent at the earliest onset of a heat. He thought back to last evening; there had been a slight bitterness to Jared's usual scent, but Jensen had barely noticed it, had dismissed it as a product of the omega's workouts. It wasn't usual for a heat to come on this quickly, but then, nothing about Jared was like the usual omega.

He was soaked with sweat, his hair wet with it, his shirt soaked through, and his sweat exuded pheromones, a siren call to Jensen's alpha nature. The wet patch on the front of the soft silk pants, though, wasn't sweat, or not entirely. The impressive tent beneath it and the sweeter scent proclaimed its essence. Jensen's hand went out to lower the waistband, but Jared, who had been moving restlessly on the mattress, suddenly rolled onto his stomach and started rutting against the sheets. His scent rose in waves, completely intoxicating, as Jensen saw the seat of his pants was completely soaked through with slick.

He leaned in, unable to resist that sweet, sweet scent; he rubbed his face against the silk-clad ass, pushing his nose into the cleft between the round, muscular cheeks. He had never smelled anything so wonderful, so incredibly right and perfect. His hands went to the waistband to pull the silk barrier down and off. Jared gasped as his cock briefly contacted the air when Jensen rolled him onto his side to free the pants. Jensen had his first glimpse of that cock, and it made his mouth water. Large, for an omega, or even a beta, it stood proud and red and weeping precome, and Jensen couldn't think of a single reason to wait any longer. He bent down and covered that impressive cock with his mouth, rolling Jared onto his back and settling between his legs. Jared's legs moved restlessly and he cried out, whether in protest or in plea, Jensen couldn't tell. It didn't matter. He suckled gently and mouthed his way down that hard column of flesh, and Jared's hips thrust up, pushing his cock deeper into wet heat, and he mewled, his head rolling side to side, in an overload of sensation.

Jared smelled and tasted of "omega," but within that familiarity, there was a deeper, richer element. Jensen wanted to roll in it, scent his own skin, fill his nostrils with the scent so that nothing else had meaning. When Jared spilled into his mouth, Jensen almost came in his pants. Barely waiting to rip his own clothes off, Jensen rolled Jared onto his side and moved up behind him, his aching cock seeking the center and the source of that heady, addictive smell. He slid home in one thrust, Jared's slick so wet and copious there wasn't a moment of resistance. Jensen thrust lazily, enjoying the sensation before his alpha nature took over completely.

"Gonna knot you," he breathed against Jared's neck, his voice nearly a growl. "My omega," he thrust a little harder, his knot beginning to swell. "Mine!"

Jared was past conscious speech. He writhed back against Jensen, rubbing any area of his skin he could against Jensen in a wanton display of need. His moans and nearly subvocal groans went through Jensen at every point where there was contact between them, and only built the need and drive to mate. He was fully sheathed inside Jared's hot, wet channel now, his knot swelling against the tender stretch of his pucker. Jensen nudged, feeling the opening expand to accept him, and nudged again, with the same result. Overcome with a wave of need, he drew back his hips and powered one surge forward, and Jared opened to accept his knot. Wet, tight, hot, Jared's channel gripped like a vise, and Jensen slowed his strokes, despite the difficulty, to move back and forth in slow, small increments. Jared moaned and writhed, and pushed back onto Jensen's cock, his body begging for more, and Jensen wouldn't deny either Jared or himself. He slammed forward, knot swollen to its full girth, and rutted his hips against Jared's ass.

Jared widened the spread of his legs, attempting to make more room, and Jensen pulled him up, with his back tight against Jensen's chest, and rocked into his omega with hard, heavy strokes, until his vision whited out and his ears rang, and with a shout, he was coming and coming into the welcoming heat of his omega. He must have shot for an hour, he thought wryly, as the spasms began to ease down. He was still coming, still rutting gently into Jared, his knot still hard. They were tied for the foreseeable future. Jensen reached down to grab the sheet and pull it over both of them, and pulled Jared close against his chest before he surrendered to sleep.

Jensen woke to Jared pushing back against him urgently, his hips apparently moving on their own. Jensen's knot had deflated while he slept, but with the stimulation and the renewed wave of scent Jared was giving off, it was rapidly swelling again. Jensen swiveled his hips against Jared, and the omega gasped and matched his movements.

Jensen propped himself on one elbow and pulled Jared's shoulder back to get a look at his face. Face flushed and damp with sweat, Jared's eyes were closed. Pre-verbal sounds of need slipped from his parted lips, between gasps and pants of breath. His hips tugged at Jensen's seated cock, and the rest of his body writhed in a display of need.

"I've got you," Jensen murmured, lips against the sweet-salty skin. "Gonna fill you up. You're mine, omega. Gonna breed you, give you babies. Never give you up. Make you nobody else's but mine."

Jared didn't answer, just moaned and writhed, and rutted his hips back against Jensen, trying to drive his knot deeper inside him.

Jensen woke from another involuntary nap; his knot was small enough now to slip free of Jared, followed by a gush of come and slick. He peered at his omega's face, but Jared was sleeping soundly, so Jensen went to take a shower. He called for Misha to bring fresh bedding, and laid it ready nearby. He brought a wet washcloth and towels to the bedside, and with careful, tender strokes, he cleaned the sweat and slick and come from his omega. Gently, he rolled Jared enough to free the soiled sheets and put on the fresh ones, then rolled the omega onto the clean side and finished making the bed, and left the soiled bedclothes in a bundle for the laundry.

Climbing into the bed behind his omega, he pulled Jared halfway to sitting, leaned him back, supported against Jensen's chest. Holding him there with one hand, he reached with the other for the glass he had filled from the carafe of fresh, cold water.

"Jared," he called. "Jared, here, wake up."

The omega's head rolled on Jensen's shoulder, and he mumbled a wordless protest, but Jensen insisted. "Jared. Drink this. You have to drink, love. You're dehydrated, after all that. Come on," he held the cup to Jared's lips, wetting them as a few drops spilled down his front. "Drink."

Jared's tongue came out, chasing the moisture, and his lips fastened on the edge of the glass. He drank easily, almost greedily, but Jensen didn't give him more than the one glassful, setting the glass back on the bedside table. Jared's eyelids fluttered, and he uttered a breathy moan as his hips started to roll and rut where he sat propped up against Jensen. "Hey," Jensen smiled, his cock already plumping. "You ready to go again, Jared? Huh? You ready for my knot?"

Jared's lips parted and he had begun to pant, as his hips swiveled harder and more insistently, in blatant need. His expression was so wanton Jensen could hardly believe this omega in his arms was the same boy who had insisted with such passion, "I _never_ wanted it!"

Jensen's breath caught. That boy's insistence and firm belief had not been feigned, he had meant it. And yet, here he was now, belying his own words. This, fundamentally, is what Jensen had believed and hoped would happen. That once Jared was in heat, he would understand and accept his role as omega, would beg for his alpha's knot, would welcome their mating, and would rejoice if it resulted in a child. All was just as Jensen had wanted it to be.

Then why did the memory of Jared's white and anxious expression rise between him and the delicious, demanding omega in his arms at this moment? And why did it leave him with the prickling sharp edges of something that felt uncomfortably like guilt?

Jared moaned and shifted in his arms, his cock rising, flushed and rosy with arousal, oozing precome. Jared seemed to have little control of his body, but he lifted an arm and reached behind him to pull Jensen tighter against him, and rutted his ass against Jensen's groin. "Please!" he muttered. "Need. Please, please."

"What do you need, Jared?" Jensen murmured against the omega's neck.

"Empty," Jared gasped. "Hurts. Need...filled. Need to be filled." Through his teeth, he gritted out, "Got what you wanted." His hips rolled again, urgent, desperate, and his voice broke on a sob, "Need you to fuck me. Please."

There was no way Jensen could resist that, even if he had wanted to.

* * *

 

The room was bright with daylight when Jared woke, sore, and sticky, the residual ache of exertion in every limb. But he was wrapped in a wonderful lassitude, too, a calmness he hadn't ever felt before. He sat up and stretched his arms out above his head. He drew in a deep breath, and nearly choked, overcome with the unexpected scents of come and sweat, added to the unique scent of the alpha, mingled with his own. The sheets beneath him were rumpled and creased, crusty with sweat and spend, and the khan lay beside him, snoring, his body lax, limbs flung wide. Jared eased out of bed, wincing at the soreness, and found the shower. He stood under the spray for a long time, noticing bruises and marks all over his body as he lathered up and let the soap rinse away under the spray. His memory was faulty, there were definite gaps, but he wasn't sure he wanted to remember how wanton he had been, how hungry for an alpha's knot, how his body had demanded it, ached and twisted, burning up inside.

Thinking about it now made him wince — and the realization that the khan would probably expect to continue to fuck him now made his stomach roll. Bile rose, and he choked it back. He couldn't. No matter what he had done while he was — in heat. Oh god, he'd gone into _heat!_ — he didn't want that now. He hadn't ever wanted it, but he could remember, through a kind of haze, begging to be knotted, like he was dying of the aching emptiness, and being knotted was the one thing that would save him.

He scrubbed at his skin, removing every possible trace of his heat, and of the khan. He had to — he had to find some way to convince the man that this wasn't ever going to happen again. He had to, somehow, get hold of inhibitors, or even suppressants, he couldn't be choosy about which, in his predicament. But he didn't ever want to go through this again.

While his brain worked feverishly at finding a solution, he didn't notice the khan slipping into the shower behind him, until his arms went around Jared's waist, his nose nuzzling into the joint of Jared's neck and shoulders. He inhaled deeply. "Mmm."

Jared startled and jerked, and would have slipped except for the alpha's rock-steady grasp. Jared twisted to try and step out of his arms, but the khan held him fast, and took another, deeper breath. "Ohh, sweetheart." Jared could feel his smile.

"What?" Jared still struggled to get free, but now he turned in the man's arms to face him. Maybe he could work free that way. The expression on the khan's face, however, stopped him. "What are you smiling about?"

Impossibly, the khan's smile widened. "Your scent has changed, Jared."

"What? Why would..?"

"That's right, my beautiful omega," the man beamed, biting at Jared's jaw. "You're pregnant!"

Jared would have gone to his knees, had he not been held in a firm embrace. As it was, as soon as he regained his footing, he practically fought his way free and out from under the torrent of water, leaving the alpha staring at him like he'd lost his mind.

"No." His voice hardly worked, he tried again. "No. That's not possible."

"Oh, Jared, of course it's possible. You've made me very happy, my omega. You're giving me a child, mine and yours, and on your first heat. I can scarcely believe how wonderful you are." The khan had stepped out from under the torrent and approached him, and now reached an affectionate hand to Jared's face. "Our child, Jared, will be beautiful and strong, like you."

Jared couldn't. He shook his head, and reached for clean clothing while he tried to shut out the sound of Jensen's happy prattling.

"Soon you'll be blooming, full and beautiful, my seed growing inside you. I won't be able to keep my hands off you — I've barely been able to manage until now. I'm going to eat you up, toes to nape, every single night. I promise."

Jared's stomach rolled, and if there had been anything at all in his stomach, it would have come up at that moment. As it was, he left the bathroom without replying, and went in search of his shoes. Not finding them, he opened the bedroom door, and headed barefoot out into the corridor. Misha appeared, as he so often did, and unlocked the inner door for him. "Are you feeling all right, Jared?" he inquired. He didn't seem too perturbed when Jared couldn't summon words to answer.

* * *

Jensen finished up in the shower and hopped out, drying off quickly, humming under his breath. He walked into the bedroom, surprised that Jared wasn't there. Then he took in the state of the bed, and the smell, and realized Jared probably had gone to finish dressing. He rang Misha to have the sheets stripped and changed, and ordered Jared's favorites for dinner that evening. He had some work to get through, and then he and his pregnant omega would have a lovely meal, and spend some quality time together.

Jared looked amazing when he arrived for dinner. Dark green silk set off his skin and brought out the tawny green in his eyes. Jensen smiled. He had something else, something he had had made especially to match those eyes, something he had been keeping for this exact occasion. He stood and smiled and went to kiss his omega, who stood quietly and made no attempt to kiss Jensen back. Jensen was focused on the gift, however, and didn't really notice. He took the tiny key from his desk drawer, and opened the lock at Jared's throat, slipping off the rolled leather collar. Jared's eyes went wild.

"No, sweet boy, don't be alarmed. You're still mine," Jensen reassured him with a smile. He brought out the flat box and opened the lid to show off what lay inside on a bed of white satin. It was a Thai-style braided gold chain, set with a scatter of tiny cabochon stones woven into the braid: citrine, aquamarine, and peridot, the golden amber, pale blue, and light green echoes of the colors of Jared's eyes. Jared stared at it expressionlessly, and Jensen lifted it, set the box down, and stepped behind Jared to fasten the new collar about his throat.

He stepped back to look at it from the front, and smiled up at his omega. "It's beautiful," he told him. "But no more beautiful than you are. You've made me so happy, Jared. I love you."

Jared's eyes widened, his hand came up to trace the collar with careful fingertips, and Jensen turned him and walked him to the cheval mirror in the corner. Jared stared at himself for a moment, before his gaze wandered back to Jensen's face.

"Love?" he asked, his voice sounding a little rusty. "What have I done to make you love me?"

"You're giving me a child, Jared. Our baby." He reached up to peck a kiss on the spot where Jared's dimple appeared when he was happy. "I'm happy about that, and I love you for it."

Jared's gaze wandered away, and he nodded, absently. He seemed distracted, unengaged, and Jensen led him to the table, where several of his favorite dishes were set out to tempt his appetite. Jensen held his chair, and Jared's brow wrinkled in puzzlement at the gesture.

"I know I'm being uncharacteristically demonstrative, Jared. But I want this to bring us closer." Jensen watched as Jared picked up his fork and pushed the corner tine into the weave of the table covering. "I want you to move into my quarters, sleep with me every night."

Jared's eyes darted up to his and there was the tiniest beginning of a negative shake of his head. "I — " he started to say, but he didn't finish the sentence.

"Just to sleep," Jensen assured him, managing to keep most of his disappointment from showing. "And I think, if we're going to be closer, you might call me Jensen, when we're alone." He waited for the boy to react, hopeful he would be pleased at the offered familiarity. But the omega merely mouthed "Jensen" silently, and gave a slight nod of his head.

* * *

Life for Jared continued pretty much as it had been before. His mind glossed over "before what?" and concentrated on the practicalities of getting on with life. Waking in the khan's — Jensen's — bed was strange, at first, but Jared usually woke early and slipped away before having to speak with the khan. No matter how early, Misha was always somewhere nearby to unlock the seraglio door.

Jared continued to follow his routine of exercize in the garden first thing, followed by breakfast in the common room. At first, the other omegas all watched him avidly, but when he continued neglecting to share details of his time with the khan, they asked a few pointed questions. Jared deflected them, changed the subject, asked about their days, and what they had done, what their plans were.

He saw their gazes flick and settle on the collar, but no one came right out and asked, and as he refused to satisfy their curiosity, it lost some of its novelty and eventually, they seemed to pay less attention to it. He ran his usual laps, and swam in the afternoons. He did the same pushups, situps and crunches, and in between, he pulled out his laptop and worked on his thesis. He asked Misha for a large pad of drawing paper, and he began a clean drawing, to scale, with careful measurements, a more detailed version of the diagram of the dig he and the khan had worked on together, adding in details and features the khan had spoken about. He consolidated notes he had made on the dig, and since, and in discussion with the khan, made new ones, and incorporated all of them into his thesis material, writing and rewriting sections until he was nearly satisfied with them.

He worked late into the afternoons, before packing everything away, taking a quick shower and going to meet the khan for dinner. Jensen was persistently charming, insisting Jared try delicacies and specialities he'd had Samantha, the head of his kitchen staff, concoct, or supervise their creation. Occasionally he would offer a bite of something new on his own fork, and Jared would back away, refusing to be fed by another's hand. But he would try the food with his own fork, finding some of it intriguing. But he failed to grasp the subtleties of many of the dishes, and some, he just didn't like. It didn't seem to matter, as the khan appeared to be on a mission to discover all Jared's favorite foods. Jared knew he was being wooed, but he continued to fail to succumb to Jensen's charms.

Their days and evenings had continued this way for nearly two weeks, by Jared's reckoning, when at dinner one evening, the khan said, "Tahmoh tells me you're still following your exercize regime." He set down his fork and took a mouthful of wine.

Jared nodded. His own glass contained water, and he sipped at it.

"I think that's fine, for now," Jensen told him. "But I don't want you overdoing it."

"I'm not." Jared set the glass down, and let both hands fall to his lap.

"Be that as it may, I'm having a specialist in next week to take a good look at you, and make sure everything is okay."

"How do you even know I'm pregnant?" Jared asked. "I don't feel any different."

"I can tell by the way you smell," the khan told Jared. "You've always had a heady, wonderful scent of your own," he smiled. "Now it's...more than just you. The child has altered how you smell, added a new scent of its own, almost a mixture of your scent and mine. But it's even more than that." He stood, and stepped behind Jared's chair, his hands cupping Jared's shoulders as he leaned down to sniff the air at Jared's neck. "The child's scent is developing, as it does. It will be new, and unique to the baby, though it will have some marker elements of both yours, and mine. But now it's combining with yours, and while I can detect the difference between them, you smell different to me."

Jared sat very still, until Jensen stopped scenting him, removed his hands, and moved away. "You can tell all that from the way I smell?"

Jensen nodded. "Oh, yes."

Jared shrugged and shook his head. "I'll have to take your word for it."

Dessert was a syrupy concoction of fruit, which Jared pushed away after a bite or two. Even his indomitable sweet tooth found the dish overpowering. Jensen poured himself a brandy after dinner, and lit a cigar. Repulsed by the smell, Jared wandered out into the little paved courtyard, listening to the splash and tinkle of the fountain and the small sleepy cheep of birds in the plantings, and tracked the constellations he could see overhead.

When the khan finished his cigar and brandy, he called Jared to him, and they went to bed. Unable to sleep with the khan wrapped around him, Jared twisted and freed himself of the embrace. He fell asleep sprawled, arms and legs taking up half the bed. The khan sighed, thwarted at Jared's inability to submit to being cuddled, even in his sleep, rolled to his side, and fell asleep on his own.

Jared's days and their evenings and nights together went on in this fashion for some time.

The omega specialist was gentle but perfunctory in his examination. Everything about the pregnancy appeared normal. He counseled moderation in exercize, but having observed Jared's obvious level of fitness and having listened to the boy explain that physical activity lowered his anxiety and made it easier to both fall and stay asleep, he advised the khan to let Jared continue as he wished, as long as he was comfortable, without jeopardizing the pregnancy or his health.

* * *

Jared tugged at the collar, and huffed when it refused to give, less flexible than the leather one had been. He didn't miss the flash of disapproval in Katie's eyes, shared with Matt and Chad, the group of them lingering around the table after lunch. He couldn't help overhearing them chattering about babies — Matt was due in a few weeks. Jared kept his gaze solidly on Matt's face whenever they talked. He tried not to show how repulsed he was by the enormous bump, and by the knowledge that he was eventually going look the same way.

Chad's pregnancy had been confirmed, although Katie was regretful, and had begun to accept that she that she was not pregnant, again. She already had one child by Jensen in the nursery, and while they talked, she described her pregnancy and delivery to the boys, glancing over to include Jared in the conversation.

Aware they probably thought him rude, but unable to prevent it, he pushed to his feet, his lips pressed firmly together to keep from screaming. He tried to turn the expression into a smile — he did aim a nod at the group before leaving the room. He tried not to hear the muttering that followed him out.

After talking with Vicki, and a few conversations with some of the other omegas, Jared now better understood the Rirajistani system of assigned roles. He was aware that, whether the child growing inside him turned out to be alpha, beta, or omega, it would have little to do with him once it was educated in its duties.

Jared believed that if he was to be a parent, there had to be a relationship. A bond, certainly, but also a developing personality with which to bond, a curiosity to teach, steps physical, emotional, and intellectual to guide. But that would not happen, not in this culture. As much as Jared wished otherwise, one man couldn't attempt to change a culture that had developed over centuries, not on his own. And he could find no mental or emotional toughness in him to attempt to bond with a child that would be separated from him in a few years, and guided toward a destiny that couldn't be avoided. The simple facts were that an alpha would have neither interest in nor use for the omega who had given him or her birth, nor would a beta. And an omega was little more than a trading chip; bonding to an omega was surely asking for having one's heart ripped out when the child was inevitably sent away.

No, he would keep healthy, he would take the best care of himself that he could, to give this child the best possible start. But he would detach his expectations, his speculations and hopes for the future from it. Once born, it would be accepted into the nursery, cared for by the family of omegas. And he would let it go and not mourn the loss — at least not any more than he could help.

 

The other omegas, all of them, at one point or another, congratulated Jared on his pregnancy. They seemed genuinely happy for him, and tried to pull him into speculating on what the child would look like, whose personality it might have, and whether it might be a strong alpha, a beautiful omega, or a smart beta. Jared smiled a tight smile that revealed nothing of his thoughts, and moved away as soon as possible from those discussions. Katie and Danneel both complimented him on his collar, and seemed offended somehow, when all he did was shrug. He supposed for them it would be a symbol of Jensen's affection. He felt a little uncomfortable about its ostentation, until he really paid attention to the jeweled pendants that hung from the others' collars. None were alike, and each one suited in some special way the omega who wore it. He contemplated that fact for a while; perhaps it was a thing to be proud of, to have a collar unlike anyone else's, crafted especially for the one who wore it.

But it was a _collar_. No matter how beautiful or complimentary, he was unable to get past its purpose and what it symbolized. There was no way he could find anywhere within himself the mindset those omegas shared, who were proud of their collars, and of belonging to the Khan of Umara.

There was no point in expressing his opinion, Jared knew. He couldn't change the way things were for himself, but he really didn't want to upset these people, who were _happy_ with their way of life. He didn't protest, he didn't complain, he didn't argue. But he couldn't join a conversation about what their lives revolved around — children and serving the khan — with the same joy they all shared with each other. So even when he didn't protest, his lack of participation was noticed, and it set him apart.

The others were dismayed and sad that he didn't rejoice over his alpha's token of regard, and over his pregnancy, and their puzzlement turned to upset, and finally, a kind of resentment. Jared had never really been one of them, and slowly, they stopped trying to treat him as if he was. And as baffling and annoying as their constant attentions had been, Jared found himself increasingly isolated and lonely.

He tried not to acknowledge that fact, and concentrated on finishing his thesis.

 

 


	6. Hostage | J2 AU NC-17

** **

 

Jensen was trying hard not to be upset and disappointed with his omega's behavior. But he was puzzled by Jared's atypical resistance to his khan's overtures and expressions of affection. The boy still positioned himself so it was awkward for Jensen to embrace him, or to kiss him. He angled his body away from casual touch and caress, and when Jensen persisted in physical affection, he stood stolid and unresisting, barely accepting, only because he was given no choice. He didn't reciprocate, let alone ever initiating physical affection on his own. ****

This was more than the shyness and inexperience Jensen had expected would motivate Jared's behavior; this was actual passive resistance, deliberate and constant. The boy never let his guard down, and Jensen had begun to wonder if, in fact, Jared ever completely relaxed.

Jensen had believed that once he had bedded his omega, Jared would understand the physical part of the link between them, that he would become pliant and receptive, and above all, responsive. That he would crave his alpha's touch, seek his affection, and initiate caresses of his own. That, evidently, nothing had changed, that Jared's responses had all reverted to the same as before his heat left Jensen frustrated and disappointed. Apparently, his heat hadn't "fixed" that chilly reserve, and Jensen was determined to find out why not.

"What do you remember from your heat?" Jensen asked one evening after dinner, when Jared had retreated to a corner of the sofa with a book borrowed from Jensen's shelves.

Jared looked up from the book. He thought for a few minutes and then shook his head slowly. "Nothing...real. Just memories of this overwhelming feeling of dread, a kind of terror at losing control, helplessness at the onslaught of physical symptoms, and a kind of despair because I wasn't able to stop what was happening to my body, or even take control over any of it. It felt like losing myself, like falling and falling, not knowing where or why or how, and not being able to do one thing to stop it, or even slow things down enough to process any of it."

He slanted a glance up at the khan. "Why? What do you remember?"

"I remember watching how beautiful you are when you lose that control you maintain so rigidly, how gorgeous and needy and wanton you are." Jensen's features softened, lightened with a reminiscent half-smile. "How much I love how much you need me, want me, can't breathe without me wrapped around you, my knot in you. I love hearing you beg for me. And I love that I can give you what you need." The light faded, and the half-smile was replaced with a rueful twist to his lips. "At least, while you're in heat." He paced a few steps in front of the fire, away from Jared, adding, "It's obvious I can't seem to manage it when you're not in heat."

Jared didn't answer, and Jensen wasn't sure whether he had heard the last part. Or if he had, and simply resented the implication that he was responsible for Jensen's disappointment, and refused to feel guilt about it.

* * *

As the weeks went by, Jared's body began to change. His waistline thickened, there was a small roundness below his navel. He was rarely nauseated, and was grateful that symptom had evidently passed him by. But he found himself falling asleep at the most random times, and without warning. He woke more than once with the impression of laptop keys in his cheek, where he had dozed off while typing. He pushed himself to keep to his exercize schedule, but he could feel that his times were slower, his arms heavier in the water, his strides not pounding over the ground as fast. He thought he probably should be more concerned about the changes than he actually was. But he dismissed the thoughts, and occupied himself instead with his thesis, writing up his notes, taking and editing photographs of the charts, maps, and diagrams he'd drawn with Jensen's input, and organizing them and his photographs from the dig. He included commentary from Jensen where appropriate. The work absorbed his interest and concentration, even though he realized he would never have the opportunity to present it, or ever receive his degree.

Danneel's heat came on, and Jensen was apologetic about asking Jared to sleep in his own room for a few nights, but it was the alpha's duty to tend to the needs of each of his omegas. Jared agreed at once; he was pleased and relieved to be able to work as late as he liked, and then fall into his own bed. He could spread out as much as he wished, and not be wary of arms that wound around him in his sleep and held him close against another body. He luxurated in sprawling, limbs going to all four corners unimpeded, and he fell asleep that way. But at some point, he woke in the night, and found he missed the sound, the awareness, of the regular breathing, the warmth and simple comfort of another person close by in the dark. He thought he might welcome sleeping with Jensen again. But only days after Danneel's heat was over, Genevieve's started. And somehow, Jared just never quite went back to sleeping in the khan's bed, except at Jensen's invitation now and then. It was strange, but nice, to feel his familiar companionship in the dark. And because of that, Jared found he didn't actually mind so much when Jensen would hold him, cup his belly with a warm, gentle hand, and feel the child move. The Khan of Umara would stroke Jared's growing bump, his lips nearly touching Jared's skin, and sing songs and tell traditional stories to the child growing inside.

 

Jared was still expected for dinner with Jensen each evening, even when they didn't retire to the same bed afterward. They talked about the books they'd read, or incidents from their childhoods. Jensen had spent his childhood here in the palace, but he had been schooled in England, and they discussed the differences in education there, and in the states. Though he was disappointed to know that Jensen's exclusive boarding school had been a far cry from Hogwarts, Jared got to glimpse the rascal Jensen had been as a child, and as a student. Even though he took his duties as eventual khan with utmost respect and seriousness, Jensen had never taken himself quite so seriously.

Jensen got a glimpse of the intellect and dedication Jared had shown toward his schooling, and the affection and equal dedication he felt toward his family. He looked up to his older brother, and had always been very protective of his younger sister, although she was alpha and he omega. The respect and love he felt for his parents was apparent, as was the affection he felt for his friends. The khan and his omega talked about food, both their favorites and the things they hated, and had been forced to eat "because it's good for you," and they remembered pets they'd had growing up. Their relationship moved closer to friendship, as they discussed and compared the differences in their cultures, and in their own pasts.

One evening Jared arrived for dinner with a small device in his hand which had a cord wrapped around it. He set it aside as they talked briefly before they took their seats at the table for dinner. Once they had finished dessert, Jensen eyed the device curiously, and Jared met his look, eye to eye.

"I had a phone when I first got here," he said, and Jensen nodded. "I know it doesn't have range enough to contact anybody. That's not what I'm asking."

Jensen regarded him, waiting.

"There are things on there that I would love to see again," Jared said. "And I would like it if you would look at them with me."

"What 'things'?"

"Photos, videos. My family, my friends, bits and pieces of my life. I'd — I want to share that with you, if you'll let me."

Jensen regarded him expressionlessly for another minute, before nodding. He went to his desk, opened a drawer, and took out Jared's phone. He held it out to the boy, who took it with a nod of thanks. He turned it on, and as he suspected, the power level was low. "This is the charger," he held out the device he'd brought with him. "It needs to be plugged in and left to charge, probably overnight." He looked around the room for an outlet before meeting Jensen's gaze. "Is there an outlet we can use?"

Jensen gestured, and Jared plugged in the charger and set the phone to charge. "It should be full power by dinner tomorrow. We can look at the stuff then?"

Jensen agreed. He moved back to the table to retrieve his wineglass, and smiled at his omega. "Shall we sit by the fire? I believe you were telling me about your project for a 'Science Fair'?"

By the following evening, Jensen's lips were still twitching with amusement at Jared's description of the foaming "volcano" he had built in sixth grade. He welcomed Jared for dinner, and they sat companionably, exchanging only desultory conversation while they ate. Finished at last, Jared looked to Jensen for permission, and received a nod. He moved to the desk and collected his phone, unplugging it from the charger. "Where would you like to...?"

Jensen gestured toward the sofa. "Why don't you sit here? I'll stand behind you so I can see. Will that work?"

Jared agreed, and they settled to watch; Jared eager to see familiar people and events from his life before Umara, and also anxious to share those with Jensen, and Jensen eager for a glimpse into his omega's past.

It took a moment for Jensen's vision to adjust to the tiny screen, but he saw some sort of — soccer, that was a soccer game, and Jared was playing. He kicked and scored, and his teammates hugged him and slapped his back as they moved on to the next play, all of them laughing in the sunlight. "You look like you enjoy playing," Jensen said.

"Yeah," Jared agreed. "I played in a league when I was a kid. This is just a pickup game, for fun." The video changed to a classroom, where Jared paced before tiered rows of seats, two-thirds of them filled with students who watched Jared with interest, or scribbled in notebooks, or typed with their thumbs on devices not much bigger than Jared's phone. Jared's smile flashed as he walked back and forth, engaging one student after another with questions, and nodding at the answers, unless he stopped them to make a correction, or a deeper explanation.

"You teach classes?" Jensen was surprised to know this.

"Yeah. They're Dr. O's classes, but he's away a lot..." the air between them was suddenly awkward. "So I do some of the actual teaching. I grade papers, I do some counseling one on one, clarifying and explaining subject matter, or assignments." The Jared onscreen was pointing to an assignment on the board, and dismissing the class. His smile flashed, as the students left, some calling goodbye to him. It was open and bright, and the dimples were in full force.

Jared's thumb moved, and the video changed again. There was a conical tree in the corner of the room, a "Christmas tree," Jensen realized, and decorations hung from doorframes and a fireplace. Jared stood in the middle of the room talking with a girl younger than he, who was wrestling with wrapping paper, tape, and a large box. A man even taller than Jared walked in and hip-checked him, slung a casual arm around his neck. "My brother, Jeff," Jared said. "And my sister, Megan, wrapping gifts." A woman's voice sounded offscreen, and the video wobbled, as she handed off the recorder and came into view. She gave Jared a huge squeeze around the middle. Jared popped a loud kiss on the top of her head and grinned. "Hey, Momma." The Jared onscreen looked up at the camera and smiled. "Hey, Dad! Merry Christmas."

The video ended, Jared's thumb scrolled again, and the video picked up again outside, where a bunch of young guys were playing basketball. Jared was in the middle of it, charging and shooting — and missing the basket. There weren't any uniforms, the players were all in casual tee shirts and shorts, but the guys evidently on Jared's team booed his effort with laughter and good-natured taunting, as the game went on for a few minutes. Someone eventually scored, and the video went dark.

There was another video, this time with just ambient noise, taken of Jared and his sister looking out over a lake. It appeared to be late afternoon, as the light had that long slant to it. Her arm around his waist, his about her shoulders, they leaned into each other as the wind played with their hair, and a few ducks flew in to land on the water. The video went dark, and stayed that way.

There was a silence that Jensen hesitated to break. He let Jared swipe the tears from his face before he spoke. "There are some photos on here, too. Maybe we could look at those...another time?" He turned the phone off, and turned to hold it out to Jensen.

"I'd like that," Jensen told him, gentling his voice. "Thank you so much for sharing these with me." He accepted the phone, knowing now how valuable were the memories it held. "I'll keep it safe."

Jared's watery gaze darted up to meet Jensen's, and he nodded. "Thank you."

He patted the boy on the shoulder, and moved to the table to pick up his wine glass. "You can show me the rest some other time. For tonight, though, you look tired. Why don't you go on to bed? You need your rest."

Jared got to his feet, and said, "I can't tell you how much this meant to me. Thank you for allowing me to see them again. I'm glad you wanted to watch them with me."

Jensen couldn't help himself. He came close, cupped Jared's cheek with a gentle palm, and dropped a kiss on his forehead. "You're welcome," he said. "Now, bed, Jared."

The boy nodded, and moved toward Misha, who had silently appeared at the door to show him out.

* * *

Either Tahmoh or Malik still waited at his door every morning. Jared wondered why he was still being guarded, when it should be obvious he was no longer a flight risk, at least, not right now. But he was, oddly, grateful for their company. Neither of them was a talkative person, but Jared appreciated having a running partner, and there was something about the relationship between him and his guards that approached friendship. Both of them would answer a direct question, and with a little encouragement, even sometimes sustain a conversation, for a brief while. It was hard to pinpoint just why, but Jared could relax with both of them in a way he was unable to do with the other omegas.

 

Tahmoh informed him one morning that the khan was away on business, and Jared wouldn't see him for a few days. When Jared asked where he had gone, Tahmoh evaded answering. When Jared kept asking questions, he said that the khan had duties to Umara, and he took them seriously. Jared pressed him about those duties, and finally, as an example, the guard captain described the wells in the nearby village, as in several other villages throughout Umara. He explained the lack of fresh water, and sicknesses from drinking bad water, before the wells, and that the khan had negotiated with the alpha headman or headwoman of each village, to convince them of the benefits, and the necessity of a new well. The khan, Tahmoh said, had personally supervised the digging of each well. Admiration for the khan was clear in the captain's voice.

Malik mentioned, after Jared's careful probing, how the khan paid frequent visits to each of the villages under his care, to see that roads and structures were maintained in good repair, and listen to petitions from his people for improvements, or to listen to disputes and provide judgment. He also kept an eye on the young men, made it part of his duty to recruit and train volunteers for each village's militia. They were needed to guard and patrol against the homeless bandits and thieves who roved from place to place, taking what they wanted and killing and hurting those they robbed. Malik himself, he told Jared, had come to the palace gate after serving three years in his village militia, seeking a place as one of the khan's own guard. His respect and admiration was as evident as the captain's. Their loyalty, even their love, for their khan, was unquestionable.

For Jared it was a whole different perspective on the alpha.

Curious after all this time, he asked Vicki about the culture in the villages, how omegas and their heats were managed.

"There actually aren't very many omegas born in Rirajistan," she told him, while she stripped soiled linens from and remade small beds. "They're only a small percent of the population — perhaps twelve percent, perhaps even fewer. There's a larger percentage of alphas, but the majority of people are betas."

Jared nodded, working beside her. It was the same in the states, he told her.

"The villages try to mate their omegas to alphas strong enough to protect and care for them," Vicky went on. "But there are often disputes, even fights, between alphas, over an omega. If there is no good choice in the village, the omega's family will bring them to the local khan for protection. He will decide between the local alphas. If there are none suitable, the khan will search in his other villages for a compatible alpha to accept the omega as mate, and within the khan's own palace. If none is found, the omega will join the seraglio, and the khan is then responsible for the omega's care: shelter, food, and assistance during heats."

Jared helped her bundle the soiled sheets to take to the laundry chute.

"It isn't often that a suitable alpha can't be found, though it does happen sometimes. And then, of course, children born to omegas in the seraglio are the khan's blood, and they will be educated and trained according to their needs and abilities." She scooped up a stray toy and dropped it in a bin. "If the khan has no mate, an alpha child born in the seraglio will be chosen to succeed him as khan."

"But — aren't omegas in the seraglio the khan's mates?"

Vicki laughed, pulling a sheet at a time from her bundle and stuffing each one separately into the chute. "No. Although he 'mates' them when they're in heat, they don't share a mate bond. Every alpha seeks one mate, an omega who complements them in personality, to share their lives together. Our khan wants someone willing to take on concern for Umara, as well as for the khan's palace. Someone to be a partner in all things." She slanted a glance up at Jared, and he flinched from her directness.

"M-me?" It was a strange concept to consider. "You mean, Jensen — the khan — wanted me to be his mate?"

Her smile was a little wry as she took Jared's bundle to send down the chute. "I believe that was the initial idea."

 

Jared ran into Misha in the common room, and asked if he might borrow a book which Jensen had agreed to let him read, in the khan's absence. Misha led him through the door into the palace, and accompanied him to the khan's study. He stood in the doorway and let Jared browse the shelves, waiting till he was done to let him back into the seraglio.

"Were you here before Jensen became khan?" Jared asked idly, while scanning titles, his fingertips running along the spines.

"I grew up in the palace," Misha said. "I left for training, but otherwise, I've spent my life here. The father of our khan was the ruler, when I was young."

"What was he like?"

Misha thought for a minute, then took a deep breath. "The palace was a different place, then," he said.

Jared had to probe. "How so?"

"The old khan was strictly traditional, very inflexible, and to the letter in every requirement of his household, and his villages," Misha said. "His dealings with village headmen, the khans of other regions, members of the Rirajistani government, and representatives of foreign interests, were quite often...less than cordial. He was staunchly resistant to the changing policies of the Andawaran government. He found them difficult to accept, and adapt to." Misha's gaze fell to the tiles of the floor as he sought diplomatic phrases. "He saw no reason to modify customs which had served the country for centuries, and he tended to cut himself — and Umara — off from the rest of the world."

Jared reflected for a minute on what Jensen's childhood must have been like, here in the palace. "But he sent Jensen to school in England. That seems sort of progressive."

"It was a...diplomatic arrangement. You should ask the khan about it, if it interests you." Misha's gaze met his. "Have you found your book? I need to see about my other duties..."

Jared quickly pulled a book at random from the shelf, glancing briefly to make sure the title was in English. He moved toward the door without more delay. "Thank you for this," he smiled at the beta. "And for talking with me."

* * *

Jensen held the phone in his hand. The device was not completely unfamiliar to him. He thumbed through the videos Jared had shown him, shuffling quickly through them to reach new-to-him material. Okay, there was Jared, in the driver's seat of a truck — not new, but well cared-for. He grinned and waved at the photographer as he drove past. There were still photographs, as well. Several young men dressed for the cold, Jared included, snow on the ground, and all of them with ridiculously large packs on their backs. Hiking to camp somewhere, in the snow, Jensen guessed. There was a group of people around a table: he recognized Dr. Beaver, and there was Dr. Omundson, as well as a couple of other faculty members from the expedition. Several students were at the table, too, including Jared. Some sort of discussion, then, likely planning the expedition. Jensen watched as Jared contributed to the discussion, his words listened to with the same weight and attention as everyone else's around that table.

The exclusive British school where Jensen had been educated had not admitted omegas, of course. The facilities were maintained and kept running by well-trained and educated betas, and their work overseen by the alphas who owned the school, formulated policies and curriculum. Those few student alphas who actually already had omegas of their own were discouraged from bringing them to the school, as they would likely distract from the concentration nascent scholars were expected to focus on their academics. But there were omegas, if one paid attention. The sweet shop where Jensen and his friends often stocked up on candy was owned and managed by a friendly beta. His omega daughter was frequently on hand, stocking shelves and display cases, weighing and packaging candies into packets ready for sale, arranging and neatening table displays. Modest and unobtrusive, Jensen remembered never quite catching her eye, or fully seeing her face, let alone a smile. But she had seemed content at her work, and had obviously been a help to her father.

There had been others, now that he tried to remember. None of them were in positions to actually interact with the public, but they seemed quite efficient and proud of the work they did. He, nor any of his classmates, had ever done more than notice in passing. But it was clearly another example of omegas having a life outside a seraglio.

Thumbing through the photos and the rest of the videos, Jared's face leapt out at Jensen from most of them, and one thing couldn't be ignored. Jared was laughing or smiling, his body language was open, his features expressive, often joyous. Jared had forged a broader experience of life even than any of the omegas Jensen remembered. Mouthy and loud when he wasn't with students or teachers, with his friends he was...boisterous. In family photos, it was obvious he was loving and demonstratively affectionate with them. Jensen couldn't avoid comparing how different Jared was in these images than the way he was now.

It occurred to him, like a revelation too late, that Jared had appeared so quiet and reserved when Jensen had first noticed him at the dig because he had been concentrated on his work. Not the same happy, outgoing Jared as in the videos, but even then, there was an obvious difference between that boy who had moved without direct supervision among the ruins, concentrating on the work, taking his time to document the findings, confident in his own skill and ability, and the omega living now under Jensen's roof. He watched the vids again, found a few more, and paged again through the still pictures — Jared driving, wearing a backpack piled high, and dressed for snow. At a conference table, in laughing discussion with Beaver and Omundson and several other apparent faculty, and younger people Jared's age. Megan making a face, sticking her tongue out at the person taking the picture, who he guessed was Jared.

Jensen had a lot to think about.

* * *

"Hey." Jared sat next to Chad at lunch, and the omega regarded him from under a quirked eyebrow.

"Hey yourself. So, you talking to people, now?"

Jared poured olive oil on his plate and snagged a piece of flatbread, ripping a small chunk off it to dip in the oil. He nodded and swallowed the bite of bread. "So, how're you doing with the..." he gestured at Chad's middle, still not quite able to utter the word "pregnant."

"I'm good," Chad smirked, being thoroughly obvious about not saying, better than you.

Jared ignored the implied taunt, and asked, "Is this your first?"

The omega shook his head. "Third. Why?"

"Just — making conversation." He reached for the juice pitcher and poured for himself, waving it at Chad's glass.

Chad nodded, then picked up the glass and sipped, waiting for Jared to go on.

"I don't know. With the khan away, and," he waved at his expanding middle, "me slowing down, the days seem longer. I know I've been — "

"Rude?"

"Distant. And I'm sorry. Everything's just been — weird." It wasn't much of an explanation or an apology, but Chad seemed okay with it. "I've been kind of learning how things work in this country. But I don't know much about any of you guys — really, I don't know anything. So, fair's fair. Ask me questions and I'll answer, if I can ask you, too."

Chad's eyebrow got another workout, and his expression was either a grin, or a smirk, or possibly something in between. "Shoot," he said.

"Okay, thanks. Um, how long have you been here? And where were you before you came here?"

Nearly twelve years, it turned out. Chad had been gifted to Jensen's father as part of a concession for trade, from the khan of a northern region in Umara. He had been thirteen when he became a member of the seraglio, though, he told Jared, the khan had died soon after his arrival, and it had been the present khan who called for him the first time, when he was sixteen. A reminiscent smile stole over Chad's face as he remembered the romance of his first heat, the khan's gentleness, and how deep Chad's affection for him ran, in gratitude for being an attentive, strong alpha.

Their first child had gone off to beta school a few years ago, and their little omega girl would be ready for omega school in about a year. Yes, he said, in answer to Jared's questions, it was hard to see them go. But he was proud of them, and he knew they would do well, and the khan would make sure they had good lives.

"Now," he said, peeling an unfamiliar fruit the way one peeled a banana. "Your turn."

"What do you want to know?"

"How come everything freaks you out so bad?" Chad asked."What's life like where you come from, and why don't you know the first thing about being an omega?"

Chad didn't believe it at first when he was told how different Jared's life had been from the way omegas lived here in Umara. That in the US, omegas were almost always integrated into society. Ones who, by choice, or by family custom, kept the stricter traditions, as in Umara, stayed cloistered until they were mated. Once mated, of course, they disappeared altogether into their alpha's household. Just as in Umara, traditional omegas were never seen outside their family homes. But really, there were vanishingly few of them in the US.

Chad surveyed him thoughtfully, and Jared could almost hear the wheels turning in his head while he told him that the US didn't have separate schools for alphas, betas, and omegas, just regular school. And that most omegas went to school, and college, or career training school, the same as betas did. They had jobs, and managed their lives around their heats. They got married, usually to a beta, and they only had kids if both people wanted them.

After he'd expressed his incredulity and asked a few questions to clarify, Chad regarded Jared for a long moment, and then nodded. "Yeah, that's a pretty huge difference. I guess I can see why you've freaked out since you got here over every little thing about being an omega like us. Man, I'm kind of sorry for you — that's had to be rough."

Jared shrugged off the obvious, and moved on to ask, "What can you tell me about Danneel, and Matt, and the rest?"

The khan brought Genevieve in, Chad told him, from one of Umara's villages, where there had been a raging feud over her when she was barely ten. She was sent to omega training, a bit late, but she took to it easily, and had always been happy to be a palace omega.

Danneel was a gift from a high-placed government official from Andawar, who appreciated the support of Umara during a difficult shift in government policy. Matt had been in the seraglio of another politician, who, while visiting here, had met and become enchanted with one of the palace omegas — the one who had given birth to Eisha, in fact. The official had offered a trade, and as the omega in question seemed as smitten as the alpha, the khan had agreed, and Matt had joined the seraglio. From things Chad had heard him say, Matt was pleased here, with what he considered a step up in status.

Katie was a different story, Chad told Jared, glancing around to make sure he wasn't overheard. "Our khan," Chad said, had been the guest of a high-ranking alpha in another region. He had witnessed the host's unprovoked abuse of his omega, and had bought her outright from him on the spot, and walked out with her, brought her home and installed her in his own seraglio. She had been pregnant at the time, with, it turned out, an alpha boy. Her former alpha had demanded custody of the child, and there had been no choice except for the khan to agree and surrender the baby. Katya had been the result of Katie's first heat here in the palace, but so far she had not gotten pregnant again since the little beta's birth.

Jared was dazed at the information, the life stories of these people he lived with, but had, so far, refused to know more than superficially.

"You're all really tough people," he told Chad. "Omegas are supposed to be these soft, accepting, obedient creatures, with no will or ideas of our own."

Chad regarded him, puzzled.

"Every one of you has had it rough. You've all lived through some shit, but you'd never know it, and each of you just seems really happy to be here."

Chad sipped at his juice and gave Jared a direct stare. "And what about you, Jared? Are you glad to be here? After all the attitude and resistance you've been throwing since you got here, are you finally ready to settle down and be part of this family?"

Jared couldn't answer. He was tired of fighting. He still felt lost in a strange and confining role. He wasn't ready to give up on the life he had planned for himself. But right now? He was tired. And he didn't want to fight anymore.

 


	7. Hostage | J2 AU NC-17

 

There was a bustle in the courtyard, and Jared walked down to the common room to see what was going on. ****

"Matt's in labor," Genevieve told him, popping dried banana chips into her mouth, one after the other. "Vicki's with him, and the specialist is on his way from Andawar." She brushed crumbs off her hands and stood up. "You want to drop by? Danneel was with him early this morning, but he'll be glad to see you," she included Chad in the invitation. "Help take his mind off."

Jared cleared his throat and reached for the chips. "Uh, no. I'm good."

He didn't miss Chad's smirk when he told her, "Yeah, I'll be up in a few."

She grabbed a handful of chips to take with her. "Okay. See you there."

"You might want to come by, man," Chad suggested, grabbing a handful of sunflower seeds to take with him. "Take some of the mystery out of the process, you know?"

Jared hesitated a minute more, then nodded and stood. "Yeah," he agreed. "Okay."

Matt's room was one of those that faced the palace, across the pool. Sun shone on the tile outside, but the room's interior was dim and cool. The omega stood bent forward, his hands braced on the footboard of his bed. He groaned, his face flushed a little, and after a minute or two, he stood and began walking around the room. One hand went to press on his back.

"You're doing well," Vicki told him, looking up from the watch in her hand. "Do you want to slip into the pool now, before the contractions get closer together?"

"In a minute," Matt told her, looking up to meet Chad's and Jared's eyes. "Hey. What are you guys doing here?"

"I brought the rookie," Chad elbowed Jared, grinning. "Thought it might do him good to see a veteran deliver."

"Oh yeah?" Matt smiled. He aimed a direct look at Jared. "You tough enough to watch?"

Jared shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and tried a smile. "I just came by to see how you're doing. So, how are you doing?"

Matt shrugged, before his face sobered into an expression of concentration, and he nodded at Vicki. Vicki glanced at her watch. "So far, so good," Matt said.

Jared stayed until he could see Matt was in real pain. The specialist arrived, and the room got pretty crowded. He figured he wasn't needed in there right now, so he went out to the garden. As he walked around beside the garden wall, he could hear groans, and an occasional gasp, coming from Matt's room. When he stopped at the gate to the pool, Katie and Danneel were standing outside Matt's door, looking in. Danneel saw him and smiled, lifted a hand to wave. Jared waved back and kept walking. He had turned the far corner and was on the way back toward the gate when Matt screamed. Jared was frozen in place. He wanted to run toward the scream, do whatever he could to help. But Matt had Vicki, and the doctor, and the other omegas there with him — there really wasn't anything Jared could do to help.

And besides, he admitted, he was scared. He didn't want to see what had made Matt scream that way. Oh, he knew what it was, he wasn't stupid. He also knew that, inevitably, he would be the one screaming, and that really scared him. He hoped Matt was all right, he really did. But he didn't want to see.

He went back to his room, and later, long after everything was quiet, he just picked at his supper before giving up on food and slipping into the pool to swim laps. He finished, climbed out, and grabbed a towel. Light was spilling from Matt's doorway, and Jared padded over to investigate.

Matt sat propped against the headboard, a beatific smile on his face. Pacing quietly around the room, was Jensen, the infant tucked between his body and his arm, the tiny skull cradled in his hand. "A beautiful boy, Matt. He's perfect. You did so well." Jensen beamed a smile at Matt, who smiled right back, and nodded agreement. "He is gorgeous, isn't he?"

The little man in question yawned wide enough for his tiny jaw to creak, and tried to nuzzle at the blanket that swaddled him.

"Uh oh," Jensen said, stepping toward the bed. "I'm afraid you're not going to find what you want there," he told the baby, lowering him into Matt's reaching arms.

Matt adjusted his posture a little, pulled his shirt off his shoulder, and held the baby to a swollen nipple, where he latched on fiercely.

"Ah," Jensen congratulated the boy. "There you go."

Matt winced, but smiled even wider as the little guy suckled harder. "Atta boy," he said fondly. "Gotta work for it."

Soundlessly, Jared backed away and left the parents with their newborn.

 

He was used to the baby's movements now, they were just part of his day. He'd started smoothing a hand over his belly to quiet it when it got distracting, but mostly, he just acknowledged the sensation and continued what he was doing. At the moment he was re-editing his thesis and and deciding whether or not to include the best photo of the tomb. Their permit had not included the Tomb of Umar, they had not been allowed to approach it, let alone investigate or dig there, as it was sacred. But Jared had taken telephoto shots of it, and it was so beautiful it was a shame not to include it, somewhere. He considered shuffling — again — the order of his photos of the dig, and the diagrams he'd drawn. He was grateful for the quality of the camera, able to capture details of the diagram in the photos he'd taken of his drawing. The rudimentary photo editing software on his laptop gave him the ability to highlight separate parts of the dig in various colors, so he could describe each part and provide photographs that pertained to each section. He was proud of the work, but he was getting close to admitting that the text, diagrams, and photographs were, in fact, as well-written and as perfectly placed as he could get them, and the thesis was ready for presentation. He wasn't quite at that point, though, because what did he have to occupy himself when this was done?

 

 

 

The baby thumped his ribs rather hard, an ironic reminder of his future occupation. He winced and rubbed the thumped spot.

"Whatcha doing?" Katie launched herself full length onto his bed, bouncing as she stretched out on her stomach. Her grin was a deliberate taunt that Jared couldn't lie on his belly now, but he merely acknowledged it with a raised eyebrow and said, "Make yourself at home."

"I am," she smiled her kittenish smile. "What are you up to?" He didn't answer right away, and she persisted. "You've always got your nose in that thing. What is it, anyway? What are you doing?"

He stifled a sigh, and met her gaze honestly. "What I came here to do," he told her. She stared back, waiting for clarification. "We were exploring your country's history. I just never got the chance to tell anybody about what I discovered."

Her expression didn't change, and he hit "save;" when the document closed, he shut down and closed the laptop. "It's not important," he smiled. "What's up?"

"You haven't been down to see Matt," she accused. "Or the baby. Jared, he's the most adorable thing — he's smiling!" She scrambled to sit up, folded her legs into half-lotus and bounced as she spoke. "We're taking bets on what color his eyes will be — Matt's gorgeous blue, or pretty green, like the khan's. What do you think?"

"I...don't guess I have an opinion," Jared told her.

"Well, you need to come see him, and make one! You have to break the tie — we're two for green and two for blue right now. Matt doesn't get a vote."

He smiled, and gave her a slow nod. "Yeah, sure. Of course I'll come visit. Maybe after lunch."

"Really?" She bounced to her feet, all smiles. She gave him a quick hug, and flung, "He'll be so glad to see you!" over her shoulder as she bounced out of the room.

Jared sat staring at his hands in his lap — what he could still see of his lap. He had no wish to visit Matt, or see the baby. He had little interest in either. The child rolled within him, and a sudden wave of sorrow threatened to swamp him. He dashed quick tears from his eyes with a ruthless hand and muttered, "Self-pity, really, Jared?" He didn't allow the aching reply to find voice, or even actual words. He just stood and tucked the laptop under his mattress, and then walked out to the pool, slipped into the water, clothes and all, and swam until he was too tired to think.

Vicki was waiting when he got out of the shower, the loosest pair he had of the silk pants pulled up below his belly, his largest tunic riding up in front, too tight to cover the bump. He was toweling his hair and didn't see her until she cleared her throat.

"Looks like I got here just in time," she smiled, waving at the stack of folded clothing she'd put on the bed. "I thought you might need something a little more...voluminous. Let me know if they're okay, or you need more."

Jared managed to stammer, "Thank you."

She smiled in answer. "I actually came to talk to you. May I sit?" Jared nodded and waved toward the chair. He took a seat on the bed and looked through the new clothes. "I thought we should take some time to go over any questions or concerns you might be having about your delivery," she began. Jared's breath caught; he froze. This was something he had put off thinking about, forbidding himself to even imagine, ever since it became impossible to ignore or deny that he was really pregnant. He couldn't look at her.

"...I — "

"Jared, I know you're frightened, but really, there's no need to be. Omegas have babies all the time. You're built for it, even moreso than beta women. You'll have an easier time of it than I did, with either of mine."

He still kept his gaze down, his mind spinning with the recent images and sounds of Matt's labor. He didn't want — he couldn't —

Her hand landed, warm, on his wrist, and before he could stop it, he was staring into her warm brown eyes. "Jared, we're going to take good care of you. You're going to be fine."

She shook him, just a little, before taking her hand back. "Now, what would you like to know? Do you have any questions? Anything you're worried about? What can I help you understand, or feel better about?"

He swallowed, and folded his arms around himself. "How about, 'how do I get out of this?'" he asked. And she laughed.

"I think every pregnant person asks that question sometime during their pregnancy," the laugh lingered around her mouth and eyes for a minute, before she sobered a little. "Let me tell you what's going to happen," she suggested. "So you can be prepared, and in case you do have questions."

She was so kind, so warm, he naturally bent toward her kindness, listened in spite of his wish not to hear, not to know, not to _be_ in this situation. And when she was done, he did have a question or two. He knew now what to expect, and understood more about the process. But none of it made him any more eager to undergo any of it.

"Don't worry," she patted his hand again. "By the time you're a couple of weeks away from your due date, you'll be wanting to get this little one out, so you can breathe again, and not have to run to the bathroom so often, and so you can meet him, or her."

He nodded reluctant agreement, until the concept of "meet" permeated his anxiety. He managed to swallow back his reaction, summon a smile and another thanks for her; he really was grateful, he supposed, not to be left in complete ignorance. He held it together until she was gone, and then he hurried into the bathroom, back into the shower, arms wrapped tight to keep himself from shattering apart, sobbing helplessly into the roaring spray.

 

The one thing he was grateful for, that he had fallen on as a saving grace when he first learned he was pregnant, was the knowledge he was safe from his heats as long as he was pregnant. He snickered wryly to himself. Yeah, pretty much scraping the barrel, there, for solace. Still, it was truth, and it did matter. Now that he had delivery to look forward to, he realized facing another heat would become his reality soon afterward. Malik scrutinized him in concern when he collapsed in giggles against the garden wall.

"Are you well?"

Jared managed to nod, laughing even harder. "Oh, I'm just peachy!" he snorted, trying to get some air into his lungs. "Laugh or cry, right?"

Malik gave a tentative smile in response, but he didn't reply. No matter. Jared collected himself enough that he could at least stand unsupported, and they continued their walk.

Jared was aware of Chad's disappointment with him. That the other omega had hoped Jared was finally coming around when he showed a belated interest in Chad and the other omegas, and in the customs of Umara, both palace and villages. Jared knew Chad had believed, and the others had too, that Jared was truly becoming part of the family, here in the seraglio, and Jared had almost begun to believe that himself. But since Matt's child was born, Jared had drifted away again. He wasn't ever rude, he just never really felt engaged, not in conversation, or in showing any interest in whatever might be going on with the others. Danneel tried, once or twice, to provoke him, to make him angry, and Katie did too. But Jared just didn't react, at all. He felt like a ghost, silent and unresponsive. Each one of the omegas tried to charm him, to find some way to connect with him. He smiled vaguely and let them, and he supposed he was grateful that they cared enough to try. But nothing seemed to draw him out, to make him care enough to reach for the hands held out to him in kinship, in friendship.

Jared was aware Jensen was making an extra effort, too. He was charming at dinner, he told jokes, and went out of his way to relate stories of his childhood and youth, watching Jared carefully for a laugh, or even a smile. Jared was able to summon at least a smile once in a while, but he was more comfortable in the cocoon of numbness he had developed, and was working at perfecting. Being cuddled against Jensen in the dark bed, gentle strokes of his hands, not only of the belly, but of Jared's face, his hair, his back — these felt good, but rather than building a bond with his alpha, Jared merely wrapped the feelings around himself and burrowed deeper into the protection of his cocoon of solitude. Externals, like touch and sound, like the gnawing of hunger or thirst, slipped more of their call on him the less attention he paid them. And he was the closest he had been to happy in a long time, alone in the soft grey comfort of his cocoon.

* * *

Misha spoke to Jensen regarding Vicki's observances, and the concerns the omegas brought to her about Jared, and how distant he was becoming.

Jensen had noticed, himself, though he had tried to dismiss his worries. He spoke to Tahmoh and to Malik, who told him that while Jared had become animated for a while, had asked them questions, and seemed genuinely interested in what they had to say, now he seemed...quieter. He smiled a lot, both the guards told Jensen, but it was somehow like he wore it to deflect interest, or having to engage in conversation with them, or with anyone. He wore that slight smile, and moved slowly through the garden, through his surroundings, unhurried and unengaged.

At dinner, Jensen purposely turned himself into a performer, looking for a response: laughter, or a genuine smile, some actual reaction from Jared. His efforts failed. He tried, later in bed, to tell Jared what a beautiful omega he was, how well he was doing what he was born to do, how easily he took to it, even after having been prevented after all those years. Jensen didn't imagine the coldness and rejection as Jared stiffened in his arms, and pulled away. And so he reached for his omega with the only thing that Jared would accept, these days, with touch, with obvious affection and care expressed in tactile form. The chill softened, and Jared seemed to drink in the touches, like there was a layer of something between him and Jensen that absorbed affection, soft touches, and soft words, but didn't reflect them back onto the giver. He never felt a reaction from Jared, other than passive acceptance, and he was growing increasingly worried. This had never happened before, with any other omega, and Jensen was fighting a rearguard action with himself, because he had begun to understand and admit to what he'd done to Jared. Something had to happen, and soon, or he was afraid Jared was going to disappear down some rabbit hole in his own mind, and never come out again.

* * *

Jensen called for Jared one morning after breakfast, and Jared didn't wonder why, he just answered the summons. Misha opened the seraglio door and escorted him to Jensen's study, and Jared stopped on the threshold, right where he stood. That was his Mom and Dad, standing there in Jensen's study, and Jeff and Megan, too. He thought he ought to search for Jensen, he should pinch himself to see if this was real, when Jensen's voice said, "Here he is."

Jared tore his gaze from his family and looked to his alpha. Jensen was smiling, and he nodded, and gestured to the Padaleckis. Jared swayed, his feet trying to remember how to work, when Megan flew across the room and into his arms. Her arms went around his waist, squeezing tight, and then his mom was there, her head on his shoulder, that was her voice he was hearing. His arms went around both of them, and he looked up to see his dad's smile, and Jeff behind him. There was a whole babble of welcoming voices — he had trouble sorting out the words. And then his mom took a half step back, looked down at his belly and threw both arms around his neck. "Oh, sweetheart!"

He patted her back and his dad was hugging them both, and Jeff's voice was in his ear, "Hey, when do I get a hug?" Dad stepped back and Jeff engulfed him with his gorilla arms, and Jared was laughing and crying and drinking in the sight and sound of his family.

"How?" he wanted to know. "How did you find me? How long did it take? How did you get here? How are you all?"

His gaze skated from one to the other, and snagged on Jensen, across the room, watching, smiling. His gaze met Jared's, and he nodded.

* * *

That was the smile Jensen had longed to see, had begun to worry he might never see again. Sure, there were tears as well, but the dimples hadn't left Jared's cheeks since the instant he stepped into the room. He could see where Jared got his height, and good god, the brother was even taller. Jensen wasn't accustomed to the idea of adult siblings, unless they were alphas of the same family line. The notion of children of the same parents growing up together in the same household _with_ those parents was still very foreign to him. But it seemed to forge strong bonds between the siblings, and between the siblings and their parents. From where Jensen stood, all of them seemed to be having trouble keeping hands off each other. And there didn't appear to be any order or precedence among them; they all babbled at once. Until Jared's mother laid a hand on his bump and said, "This is exciting, sweetheart. When are you due?"

Jared sobered. It was like flipping a light switch. His body language shuttered, pulled in, he took a step back from the family's embrace, and that layer of coldness he'd worn for a while wrapped itself around him.

"Momma," he said. "Dad. I need you guys to understand, okay? I'm sorry, but this isn't going to be your grandbaby to spoil. Things are different here."

"Honey, what do you mean?" Shari was puzzled, and a little alarmed by her son's behavior.

Jared scrubbed his face with his hands, and then tried to smile. "Okay. This culture still keeps the traditions of separation between the alphas, betas, and omegas. The children play together in the nursery, but about the time they'd be heading off to preschool at home, here they go to school to learn about themselves. There are separate schools for each, because different things are expected from alphas than from betas, and from omegas."

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad," his father said.

"Yes," Jared agreed. "Here, everything is run by betas — businesses, households, betas do the work and they're trained to be good at it. Alphas are the protectors, of everyone. They oversee families and businesses, and guide the betas in their duties. It's...sort of a division of labor according to the abilities that each group has, as their nature."

They nodded, accepting the information. It was Megan who asked, "And what about omegas?"

Jared darted a look at Jensen, who said nothing, just waited for Jared to continue. Jared took a breath. "Omegas have their own place in society. We continue the line. We give birth. But we also provide warmth and comfort and affection to the children, as well as to others in the family. But families are different, here." He stopped, and looked again to Jensen for guidance.

"You're doing fine, Jared," Jensen said. "Go ahead."

"Here, the head of the family is the alpha. There are younger alphas, who are groomed to take over as the family leader one day, or older alphas who have stepped down from the position. And there are betas. Their lives are different, as they usually marry into other families, to forge or strengthen alliances between those families. And then omegas." Jared took a breath, and Jensen nodded, indicating he should continue. "Omegas are awarded to people who have done something good for the family, as a sign of friendship or loyalty, or gratitude." He took another breath. "Sometimes, as an expression of faith that another family will join forces in a business venture or some other alliance, an omega is awarded to that family. It's a way of reinforcing ties and alliances."

Megan was shaking her head, white-faced. "But — but — you're talking about...using people as bargaining chips. Jared, you're talking about human slavery!"

The atmosphere in the room was as tense as Megan, everyone looking to Jared for explanation, and carefully avoiding Jensen. "I suppose you might look at it that way," Jared began. Megan started to speak, but he lifted a hand to stop her. "I know, okay? I've had to live with it, and learn it." He swept his family's faces with his gaze, willing them to understand. "It's not our way, but this is another country, with different values and customs. When you understand the country, you come to understand that the practice isn't necessarily bad, in itself."

He darted a glance at Jensen, who still remained impassive. "I'm not advocating for the practice, but I see its point, I see the practicality. Omegas are treasured. Their every wish and need is provided. They are loved, and they live an easy life, compared to betas who work very hard, and alphas who sometimes have to fight to defend their family, their region, or their country."

He knew they didn't comprehend what he was saying, not completely, and not yet. But he had to get this out, so they could begin to process the information, to adjust to it, and to cope. "So, you understand when I tell you that this child," his hand came to rest, briefly, on his belly. "Will be born into this society. It will be brought up with others in the nursery until it is ready to be sent to school, to learn what its role is in the family, in Rirajistan, and in Umara."

He gave it a minute to sink in. "It won't be the grandbaby you might have imagined. It won't come to spend summers at the pool, climbing trees in the backyard, playing with the dogs, and baking cookies with you, Ma." He smiled at his mom, a sad, apologetic smile. "It's Umaran, and it will be what it's destined to be. I'm sorry if you're disappointed." Jared nearly broke at his mother's expression, and his dad was trying to hide the tears in his eyes. "But it will be a child of the Khan of Umara, and its life will be fulfilling, no matter what it turns out to be."

His gaze rose then, across the room to meet Jensen's blazing green and full of pride. "Well spoken, Jared," he said softly. "Perhaps you'd like to show your family around the courtyard," he gestured at the fountain and the plantings just outside. "While Misha gets luncheon ready."

Jensen provided guest rooms in the palace itself for the family, and aside from making sure Jared rested frequently, he made himself unobtrusive. Jared spent all his waking time with them, often in Jensen's study, to which he had made them welcome. They strolled in the little courtyard, or Jared went to their rooms, where he could see the garden from above for the first time. He pointed out some of the plantings to his mother, who smiled indulgently at his enthusiasm and increased knowledge.

His family tried to catch Jared up on his friends and life at home, gave him messages from his teachers and students at school, and Jared replied, so they could take messages back with them. When Jensen gave the family some time alone, Jared's parents told him they had petitioned the US State Department, who appealed to Rirajistan on Jared's behalf. But Dr. Omundson had registered the omega contract that Jared signed legally with the Rirajistani government, and in their eyes Jared was a traditional omega, bound by the terms of the contract. As Dr. O transferred that contract to an alpha who was a Rirajistani citizen, the same terms applied. There was no legal way for them to take Jared home, unless the khan formally released him from the contract.

The afternoon was filled with tears, and hugs, and promises on both sides, to not give up, to keep trying. There was some comfort for Jared in his family's arms.

 

Jensen observed, apparently bemused at how this family appeared to operate. On the day before the family was scheduled to depart, Jensen had a surprise for them.

With a little ceremony, anticipating their pleasure and perhaps even gratitude, he brought out the gifts he had chosen for Jared's family, bride-gifts of a kind. A silence descended over the room, and the siblings looked to their parents before showing any sort of response.

Jared's parents exchanged a look, and then Gerald rose to face Jensen. "We appreciate your intentions, khan. But we cannot accept gifts, no matter how valuable, in exchange for the life of our son and brother." He glanced at Jeff and Megan. "Which is even more precious." He took a deep breath, and continued. "Especially as we have not given up hope that he will eventually be returned to us."

Jared gasped at his dad's audacity, and he was sure there was an echo as Megan gasped, too. He sneaked a look at Jensen under his lashes, and wasn't entirely sure the echo hadn't come from the khan as well.

Jared trembled inwardly, afraid of what the backlash to such a challenge might be, but Jensen simply nodded, his expression impassive, and gestured for the things to be removed.

The family stayed for five nights, and on the sixth day, as they were getting ready to leave, Jared slipped the flash drive that contained his thesis, complete with photographs and illustrations, into his brother's hand, and asked him to submit it for him, even if he would never actually receive his degree.

Jeff swamped him in another Big Bro gorilla hug, and promised he would see it submitted, and wait for the results. He'd get the news to Jared somehow, he said.

Amid hugs and tears and brave smiles, Jared's family left, reluctantly, and without Jared. Jensen stood close, and when they were gone, he wrapped his arms around Jared and assured him that he and his family would be able to have more frequent communication, now. Jared smiled, dutifully, since Jensen was being kind. Somehow, the promise didn't really help.

* * *

Life continued after Jared's family's visit. Jensen renewed his efforts to push the bond he wanted to share with Jared. He encouraged Jared to talk about how he grew up, what his life was like, what alpha, beta, and omega roles were and how they worked in US society, in Jared's family, with Jared's friends, and in the workplace. Jared answered more openly than he had done before, but Jensen could feel Jared was only doing as Jensen asked. He didn't seem to have the interest in making Jensen understand that he'd always had, until now. He was careless in what he said, presenting bare information without explanation or amplification on why events and institutions had come to be the way they were.

Jared's mood continued to grow sadder. He slept most often now in Jensen's bed, where the khan wrapped him up and crooned nonsense syllables, both to Jared and their baby. Hoping to generate some interest or enthusiasm, Jensen brought up naming the baby, and asked Jared what names he liked. Jared shrugged and said it didn't matter, that Jensen could name it whatever he liked. He wouldn't make suggestions, he wouldn't indicate preferences, and finally, Jensen contacted Jared's parents without telling him, and asked about family names. He hoped that Jared, and his family, would be happy if the baby had a Padalecki name.

* * *

Jared's delivery was fairly easy, especially for the first delivery for an omega as old as Jared. Labor was no fun, and went on far longer than Jared thought was sensible or right, but it finally was over, and he could rest. The omega specialist declared him fine, and recovering well, and Vicki saw that his bedclothes were changed, and he was bathed and dressed in clean clothes. He settled down against the pillows, worn out and ready to sleep for a week.

There was a squeak among the bedclothes, and Jared's eyes shut in pain, rejection, denial, anger, and a complete wish to just disappear. He didn't move, he didn't respond, his features set in a mask of indifference, despite the flow of tears, and his body tensed against the impulse to move, get up, get out of bed, walk away — And where would he go? Sit under a tree in the garden?

He pushed himself to sitting, wincing at the soreness. But he bit his lips together and put his feet on the floor, searching for his slippers. Standing was...whoa, spinny. But everything settled, and he made his way to the doorway, leaning against the facing for a moment. The garden seemed a long walk away, but the grunts and squeaks behind him were growing stronger and louder, and he wanted to be gone before they got any louder. There was no Tahmoh, no Malik waiting on guard outside his door. The one time when he would have welcomed a strong arm, of course, and they weren't there. Well, the tethers were well wrapped, and the knot was tied, now. There wasn't any way he was going to escape the Palace and the Khan of Umara, now, or ever. And so his guards could be reassigned to their former duties. No more babysitting for them.

He wished he had a stick or something he could use for a cane, but there was nothing. So he struck out, slowly, tentatively. He edged along the gallery toward the common room and then turned the corner, hoping everyone was asleep and no one would notice him edging past their doorway. The moon was up, rose-gold and huge in the blue-black sky. It faded the stars to nothing, and its reflection in the water wavered compellingly. It might be easier to drown, but Jared wasn't ready yet to die. He didn't know what he was living for, but somewhere in him, there was still a shred of hope.

Oh crap. The brat was wailing, now, and someone had noticed. Jared had reached the garden wall; all he had to do was edge around the gateway to be hidden by the wall. He had to do it before he was missed — and, there he was. He headed for the sheltering spread of branches and the thick bole of his favorite tree. The grass was soft and thick enough beneath it to make an adequate bed.

 

 


	8. Hostage | J2 AU NC-17

** **

 

They found him, of course. He was either tired enough or they took long enough for him to fall fast asleep in his leafy bower, but it was Jensen who shook him awake, and with Tahmoh's help got him back to his room, into clean clothes, and into bed. Vicki hurried in with a squalling bundle in her arms, and Jared lurched up off the pillows, feet reaching for his slippers again. It hurt; everything hurt, but nothing hurt as much as that sound going through him like a knife. ****

"What is it, love?" Jensen asked.

And Jared could only wave at Vicki. "Out. Get it out of here."

"He needs to eat, Jared. You need to feed him," the beta said.

He glared at Jensen, a direct and furious dare. "You going to tie me down and strap it to my chest? Because that's the only way that's going to happen."

Vicki jerked back in horror, and Jensen's face went white. "Jared — "

"I don't want it. Take it away. Get it out of my sight."

Jensen exchanged a glance with Vicki, and nodded.

"I'll see if Matt is willing," she murmured, as she left.

Jensen stroked Jared's hair, and pulled the cover up over his shoulders. "It's all right now. Sleep, Jared."

 

When he woke in the morning, Jensen was sleeping beside him, in Jared's bed. As Jared gazed at him in bewilderment, Jensen blinked awake.

"There you are," he smiled. "How did you sleep?"

Taking quick inventory of aches and pains, Jared was surprised to be honest when he answered, "Well, thank you. Better than I expected."

"I called your parents to let them know about the arrival," Jensen told him, smiling. "I think I'd like to name him Alec. Your family likes the name. What do you think, Jared?"

Jared's smile evaporated, and he looked away. "I told you, Jensen. Name it anything you like."

Jensen rolled to his feet. "Alec it is! I can't wait to see him. You think he's grown overnight?"

Jared's only answer was a sigh.

Jensen's face fell, and he shook his head. "Love, what?"

Jared's clear look went right through to the core of him. "Jensen, I'm pleased you're happy. I guess I'm glad I had some part in increasing the fortunes of your house. But it's not my kid. I never wanted kids, I told you that. I still don't. And this one wouldn't even be mine, anyway. It's going to slot right into whatever destiny has in store for it, like a cog in the machine, and my input isn't going to change or affect that, no matter what I want, or what I do. My contribution is done. Somebody else can feed the kid, I'm not interested. I don't care what it looks like, what its name is, or whether it turns out alpha, omega, or in between. It's your kid, it's in your house, and I've got nothing else to do with it."

His gaze rose to search behind Jensen. "I wonder, can anybody bring breakfast down here? I'm starving, and I'm not up to socializing...or the trek down to the common room."

* * *

 

Jensen wondered at the time if he should actually do as Jared had suggested, tie him down and compel him to feed Alec. Because he never relented in his refusal to see, hold, or have anything whatever to do with his son.

Alec was a beautiful, happy baby. He had a thatch of chestnut hair just like Jared's, and Jensen suspected at least one of his dimples. He was too young yet to detect dimples for certain, though. All the omegas were fond of him, and though they tried to hide it, they felt sorry and shocked that Jared would have nothing to do with him. As a result, they spoiled him. Even with their extra attention, Jensen felt guilty that Alec's parent had abandoned him; he visited the nursery more often than had been his habit, until now. And once he was among the children, he couldn't help seeing each one as the little person they were, instead of the combined category of "the children," as he had always regarded them.

Jared had stopped visiting the nursery months ago. Now, his work done, his thesis finished and out of his hands, Jared had nothing but time on his hands. He began exercising again, starting slow, but building up fairly quickly to his form previous to pregnancy. That seemed to be the way he spent his days.

Jensen began having him to dinner again, most nights, and gave him free rein of his library. When Jared wasn't running, swimming, or practicing calisthenics or yoga or Tai Chi, he was reading. The omegas made overtures, tried to start conversations. Jared was never rude, he just remained disinterested, and removed himself physically as quickly as he could.

In some desperation, Jensen reassigned Malik and Tahmoh to Jared. "Not as guards, I think, so much as companions. He's turned away from any friends he might have had among the omegas. He's obsessed with getting his body back in shape, in rejecting how pregnancy changed him. I think it may help him to spend time with strong men."

They nodded, and appeared to understand. "At least, maybe you can keep him from overdoing it completely?"

They assured him they would do their best.

One evening after dinner, Jensen was so absorbed that when he looked up from the accounts he was working on, he found Jared nodding over the book he'd been reading. It wasn't really surprising; the omega had consumed more wine than usual with dinner. He stood and put out the desk light, crossed the room and bent over his stubborn omega. "Jared."

"Mmm?" The nodding head snapped up. "Wha..? Jensen?"

"You were sleeping, love. Come to bed. Sleep with me tonight."

Still half-asleep, Jared didn't argue. He merely followed where Jensen led him by the hand, stood quiet while Jensen stripped him of his clothes, and pushed him, unresisting, into bed. Jensen joined him quickly, arms going around him, and lips on his, tongue seeking entry into the hot, wet mouth. Jared's lips pressed tighter together, and he made an irritable noise, turning his head away.

Undeterred, Jensen moved down to nibble at an earlobe, his neck. He left a trail of tiny bites on Jared's neck before he moved back up to try kissing again. Jared's head rolled restlessly away from Jensen's kisses, so Jensen dropped soft kisses on his eyelids. He ran a gentle hand up and down Jared's arm, and then along his ribs. He could see Jared's dick starting to plump; that was a good sign. He took gentle hold of it, started sliding his hand up and down the column of it, and it stiffened even more. Jared's hips rolled, and he gasped into Jensen's ear.

"That's it," Jensen crooned encouragingly. "That's my boy."

He moved between Jared's legs, spreading them as he moved up closer, one hand still working Jared's dick. His hand went to Jared's taint, and a fingertip brushed the tight pucker — it was wet with slick. Not as copious as during his heat, nonetheless, there was ample there for Jensen to slide in without hurting Jared. He nudged his own cock, stiff, though it had been ignored until now, against that pucker, and pushed in.

Jared came awake, wide-eyed and thrashing. "Jensen — what?"

Jensen pulled out, to push in again. His knot had started plumping, and it wouldn't be long before they were tied.

"S-stop!"

"What?" Jensen couldn't believe what he heard. Jared felt so good, and it was clear his body wanted this, too.

"D-don't. I don't want this."

Jensen leaned forward to kiss his omega on the forehead, to pepper little kisses over his cheeks. "Your body is saying otherwise, Jared. You're ready for this. You want it." He gave a hard shove, driving into Jared, and his knot caught, and Jared's channel squeezed down tight, and they were tied. Jensen shook with his climax, and held on tight to his omega.

Jared was shaking his head, his body was trembling. Jensen had a moment of pride that he had so overwhelmed this beautiful omega, before he saw the tears, and realized the trembling wasn't from passion.

"Jared, what?"

"I can feel you."

"Well, of course you can. You're supposed to, you know?"

"I don't know. I've never — "

Jensen's hand stroked Jared's hair back from his face, tenderly. "Never?"

Jared shook his head.

"So, your heat, that truly was your first time, ever?"

Jared nodded.

"Well, we'll just have to see that you enjoy this, then," Jensen smiled, and reached down deep to find reserves. He stroked and ground and pushed with everything in him, babbling and crooning to the boy beneath him. In a glorious swell of physical and emotional release, Jensen came. He collapsed on top of Jared, being courteous enough to roll them slightly on their sides as his knot continued to pulse his seed inside his omega.

He fell asleep before his knot went down enough to slip out of Jared. He slept on, sated, and didn't notice when Jared left the bed, grabbed his clothes, and left the room. He didn't see Misha unlock the seraglio door and let Jared through.

 

Jensen woke alone in the morning. He stretched and luxuriated in the afterglow of sex, thinking happily of Jared. Until he recalled the omega's expression, his reaction. Suddenly, Jensen wondered if he'd made a terrible mistake.

Jared came to dinner that evening, at Jensen's invitation. Jensen hoped they could talk, and get some things worked out between them, find some common ground where Jared might find some reason to be happy. It couldn't be good for him to isolate himself so thoroughly from everyone. Tahmoh and Malik had both said that when even they tried to to talk to Jared, he was as monosylabic with them as he was with everyone else. He had barely spoken to his family on the phone, on either of the occasions when they had called. Jared ran, he swam, he worked out, he read, and nobody could get him to engage. After several topics of conversation had died for lack of participation, Jensen regarded Jared across the table, where he was pushing the food around on his plate, not eating a thing.

Obviously Jared was failing. Something needed to be done, and it was up to Jensen to do it. "I have an idea," Jensen said. "I think we should go visit your family."

Jared's jaw dropped, and he turned to Jensen in disbelief. "What did you say?"

"I think you should show me around where you grew up. I'd like to meet your friends, people who know you. Is that something you might like to do?"

Jared regarded him wide-eyed and unbelieving. "Go home? For a visit? With you?"

Jensen slapped his thigh as he stood to fetch the brandy bottle and two glasses. "That's what I'm saying!" He poured a couple of thimblefuls in each glass, handed one to Jared and took the other, raising it in salute. "What do you say?"

Jared tossed the decades old brandy back like cheap rotgut liquor. "I say, hell yeah!"

"Really? You'd really like to go?" Jensen grinned.

"Don't tease me, Jensen. This means too much."

Jensen reached to pat his omega on the shoulder. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't tease. I'm just glad to see you so happy." He poured another measure in Jared's glass, and this time they touched glasses and then sipped at the brandy. He opened his desk drawer and took out a prescription bottle. The pills inside rattled as he held the bottle out to Jared. "I think, just to make travel a bit less worrisome, you might want to take these."

Jared's eyes were round as he reached to accept the bottle. He held it up to read the typed information. "Suppressants? You're letting me take suppressants?"

Jensen nodded, and gave a little shrug. "It will probably be a much more enjoyable time if you're not worried about your heat coming on. This way, you can relax and enjoy the trip."

The boy crossed the little space between them, and flung his arms around Jensen's neck. "Thank you, Jensen!" When he drew back, tears shimmered in his eyes, and his smile was brighter than Jensen might ever have seen it. "Thank you!" Jensen asked Jared to call and let his family know when they would be coming, and get recommendations on places to stay. Jensen just stood back and watched as the boy he'd only seen on video came to life in front of him. His heart ached at seeing it. He was happy for Jared; maybe this trip would change things between them.

 

Jared was actually vibrating beside him, he was so excited, Jensen noted as they stepped outside the palace door and into the jeep. Jared's eyes took in everything — even if everything was only featureless desert after they had left the palace gates for the road to Andawar.

"It's a long drive," Jensen told him. "You might get tired of nothing but desert."

Jared shook his head and grinned wider. "There are no walls," is all he said. Jensen pointed out the Tomb of Umar in the distance as they passed, and Jared's gaze held it until it blurred out of sight. He drank in the sights of every village they passed, and the smile never left his face.

When they entered the outskirts of Andawar, it was like Jared didn't know where to look, and as the city soon grew around them, the buildings rising higher as they drove toward city center, the smile wavered and faded, and he got quieter. The jeep pulled up at the hotel, and Tahmoh and Malik unloaded the bags onto the push trolley, and stood waiting for orders.

Before Jensen could speak, Jared had shaken both their hands, and thanked them sincerely. They smiled at him before turning sober faces to their khan. Jensen smiled as well, thanked them and sent them home.

Jared walked close behind him as they entered the lobby; he seemed subdued and somewhat shaken by the bustle, and the number of people. He kept close as the bellboy took charge of the trolley and led them to the elevators. Once inside their room, he crossed to the windows, thrust the curtains apart, slid open the doors, and walked out on the balcony. For a long time, he just stood there, drinking in the city, the traffic, the people, the glass wall of office windows opposite the hotel. A jet roared, passing overhead, and Jared's head went up to follow its flight. Jensen tipped the bellboy and ordered lunch, and after the man left, he stood in the shadowed room and watched Jared, outside in the sun. When Jared turned to him, his smile was one Jensen had never seen, except in the videos on Jared's phone.

"This is so awesome!" he laughed. And Jensen couldn't help smiling back.

Their flight was uneventful. Jensen watched Jared get comfy in the first class seat, and wondered how he ever stuffed his arms and legs into coach, as a student. Jensen would have preferred to linger a few days in New York after their transatlantic flight landed, and explore the city with Jared at his side. But he realized how cruel that would be, with Jared on his home continent and yet so far away from home. So they only had a few hours layover before their connecting flight. Jensen himself was tired, but Jared was a mixture of tired and stressed, not used to being in the middle of so many people and the bustle and noise of terminals. He finally calmed enough to doze on the transatlantic flight, but on the last leg home, he was a bundle of nervous energy.

Jared's family was waiting, with hand-lettered signs and balloons, and open arms. Jensen was surprised when he was folded into Shari's embrace, after she'd had a good long hug from Jared. "We're so glad you're here!" she whispered into his ear.

There were rooms reserved at a downtown hotel, Shari assured them. But why didn't they all go back to the house, for now? A late lunch was ready, and the pool was waiting.

"What? You put in a pool?" Jared asked, and Gerry nodded.

"Best home improvement I ever did!"

Jared had to agree, once he stood on what used to be sparse brown grass for most of the year, and surveyed the inviting backyard pool.

"I'd like to show you something," Shari spoke to Jared, and she included Jensen, and so the two of them followed her up the stairs. "We've done some redecorating," she told them. "Jared, your room is just like you left it. Though if you have time, I'd love for you to clear it out. We'll store what you want to keep, but, I think it's time you let go of your sixth-grade reading awards, don't you?" She grinned to soften the blow as she passed the closed door, and moved on to the next.

"We always wanted to do something nice with the spare bedroom after Jeff moved out." She opened the door to a room decorated in quiet, soothing blues and greens. A king bed centered one wall, flanked by low chests used as bed tables. There was a desk and chair by the window, which was dressed in a simple pleated shade the color of the woodwork. It was pulled up at the bottom to allow a view of the side garden, and lowered at the top to show treetops and sky. The covered middle of the window screened a view of the neighbor's house siding, satellite dish antenna, and window air conditioner, Jared would show him later. A comfortable looking armchair was tucked in a corner next to a low dresser and mirror, with a standing lamp for reading. Shari walked into the room and opened the door to the bath, newly remodeled to match the guest room. "This connects with Jared's room," she said, looking straight at Jensen. "Why don't you both stay here? I think you'll be comfortable, and we'll try not to bother you too much."

Hope reflected identically in the eyes of mother and son, and Jensen smiled, perhaps able to resist, but unwilling to disappoint. "This looks very comfortable," he said. "And far more welcoming than an anonymous hotel room. Thank you, I'd like to stay."

Shari's face lit up, and Jared hugged him in thanks. "This is going to be so neat, Jensen. My mom is the best cook — "

"I'm sure," Jensen agreed, but hastened to add, "But we don't expect you to spend all your time in the kitchen. I'm very pleased you've invited me to stay."

Shari patted his arm, and gestured to the dresser. "Trunks in the top drawer, anytime you're ready for the pool." She turned to leave. "Jared, you can schlep the bags up, right? Get Jeff to help you."

"Yes, Momma."

He turned back to Jensen. "Jensen, man, you won't be sorry. Thank you — I can't — "

"Jared." He stopped the grateful babble to bring up something he'd been thinking about since the hotel in Andawar. "I have a suggestion. As long as we're here, I'd like you to introduce me as your friend from Rirajistan, perhaps someone you met on the dig." Jared's eyes were wide, and his brows wrinkled in puzzlement. "I want to get to know the person you've always been," Jensen explained. "I think, perhaps, if you don't feel bound to defer to me as your khan, that I will have a better perception of how you live with your family and your friends. Does that sound like a good idea? Or a bad one?"

Jared thought for a few minutes, and then smiled a little. "I think, from your point of view, it's a good idea. I know I've slipped so many times since we started this trip, from the ways I'm supposed to behave with my khan. I apologize. It's just hard to remember when I'm back in my world, instead of in yours."

Jensen nodded. "Good. That's what we'll do, then. Shall we tell your family, in case they want to introduce me to someone I haven't met?"

Jared was quick to agree. "Good idea. Now, I'm dying to get into that pool. I'm gonna bring up the bags, you find some trunks, and I'll meet you in the pool!"

Gerry handed over his car keys to Jared, so he and Jensen were free to come and go as they pleased. Jared called old friends from school, and set up meetings at old hangouts for dinner and drinks, or invited people over to spend afternoons and evenings in the pool. They ordered in pizza to spare Shari the work, and Jensen mostly sat back and watched Jared interact with his friends.

"Hey," the guy called Acey told Jared. "Lou and Frieda have been asking about you." 

"Yeah? How are they? How are things going at the center?"

"It's rough this year, man. The city's cut funding again, but the programs aren't making up the difference. Lou and Frieda can use all the help they can get."

Jared nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

The next morning, Jared drove them to a shabby storefront in a rundown area of town. "Friendly Samaritan" was lettered above the glass door, and Jensen followed Jared inside. A middle-aged woman with a pile of frizzy hair, its color obviously attained by artificial means, looked up at the sound of the bell on the door. Seeing Jared, she screeched, "Lou!" and came at them with her arms wide. She reached Jared and hugged him like she didn't intend to turn loose anytime soon. A tall slender person with grey hair and glasses approached, a radiant smile on her face, and she took her turn hugging the stuffing out of Jared.

"Where have you been, boy? We've missed you!"

"Lou, you know I was away at school. I'm sorry I didn't get back on my break, but I got a spot on an actual dig, and I've been out of the country for a while. This is Jensen. I met him in Rirajistan."

The women looked Jensen over, ready to dismiss him, but his handsome looks made them look again. "Well, boy, I'm just happy you brought him by to meet us!" Frieda said. "You boys come on back."

They followed the women into another room, where children sat on the floor and on small-sized furniture, playing with toys and coloring. "Hey, guys!" Jared chirped, as they continued into the back, where a team of people cooked and assembled meals on trays, and in styrofoam trays. Jared turned to Jensen.

"Lou and Frieda feed about two hundred people a day, here," Jared told him. "It's an all-volunteer staff, and it runs on donations."

Lou frowned, her lips pressed together.

"I heard donations were down," Jared said, moving to put an arm around her shoulders. "What can I do?"

"Stack of flyers over here," Frieda said. "It's hard to get people to hand them out — let alone read and respond."

Jared lifted an eyebrow in query, and Jensen looked about him again, and nodded. "We'll take 'em, Frieda," he said. "Where would you like us to start?"

The afternoon was spent on street corners, handing out flyers and charming people into donating. Jared was very charming; they had collected nearly sixty dollars by the time the flyers were gone. The women promised it would be carefully spent when they dropped off the money.

After the Samaritan, Jared stopped by several organizations he had volunteered with, helping with what he could, from repairing houses to walking dogs to playing ball with young kids. And between these visits Jared was sitting at his mom's dinner table, having friends over to play in the pool, taking Jensen shopping at the mall, to movies, and on one memorable occasion, to the drive-in. They went to Jared's friends' houses, met people at the park for pickup games of ball, went running on the track at the high school Jared had attended. Jared took him inside, showed him the rooms where he'd attended classes, the gym, the lunchroom, and the trophy case, where he pointed out the tiny soccer trophy with his name on it. Jensen stood back and observed, and understood more and more just how untenable Jared's life with Jensen had been.

The awful thing was, the more Jensen watched Jared move in his element, the more Jensen fell in love with him.

Jared got a letter from Knox University. His Master's Thesis had been accepted and approved. He was being granted his Masters degree in archeology, and the faculty would like to schedule a presentation ceremony. Would he reply at his earliest convenience to arrange it?

The whole family was there, trying to be unobtrusive about watching. But Shari hadn't been able to keep from letting Jeff and Megan know the letter had come, and they had to be there, in case it was good news. Jared, expressionless, held the letter out to Jeff, who read it, his smile getting broader with every line. He grabbed Jared in a bonecrushing hug and handed off the letter to Gerry, who shared it with Shari, and then shared a hug of joy. Megan snatched the letter to read it herself, and raising her gaze to Jared's face, saw Jensen standing by. She held the letter out to him, and let him take it to read. When he finished reading and looked up, Jared was piled with a family group hug, the whole mass of Padaleckis was bouncing up and down and squealing, and some of them were crying, though Jensen wasn't going to mention who.

Jared pounded Jeff on the shoulder, saying, "Thank you, man. Thank you," over and over, and Jeff just reeled him in again for another hug.

Both bathroom doors stayed open. Jensen loved to sit on the bed in Jared's room and look around at the posters on the walls, the books and toys and models that were still on the shelves, and imagine the child that Jared had been. Jared slept in his own bed the first night, but there was no arguing that the king was more comfortable, even with two big men in it. So, he slept with Jensen. Just sleeping. Jensen hadn't attempted anything more.

The night Jared's letter came, while piled up with Jensen in the big bed, Jared asked how long they could stay. He said he would be so grateful to be able to take Jensen to Knox and show him around there, and have his presentation ceremony. But it all depended on how soon they had to leave. Jensen assured him that he would love to go to Knox and see where Jared had gone to school. And of course, he had to see Jared receive his degree.

But before they left, Megan invited them to come along on an overnight trip into the mountains. There was some sky phenomenon occurring, and she and a couple of friends were taking their telescopes up where there was much less light pollution, to view the sky, overnight. Jared thought a night outdoors sounded like fun, and he talked Jensen into it.

They cooked hotdogs over the campfire and foilpacks in the coals. Something about eating outdoors increased the appetite and enhanced the flavors of food, Jensen thought, licking his fingertips, avoiding the two or three he'd burned on the foilpack.

They were each given a turn at Megan's telescope, and Jared was unaccustomedly quiet, after, where he sat leaning against Jensen in the dark. "You know," he said. "There's no light pollution in Umara."

"True," Jensen answered.

"A telescope doesn't take up much space. It might be interesting to have one in the seraglio, for people who're interested in watching the skies."

"You think so?" Jensen mused. "But nobody would know what they're looking at."

"There are video programs that teach things," Jared suggested. "Astronomy would be one of those things." He waited, but Jensen didn't answer. "It might be a good thing for people to learn about something...outside their own lives."

Jensen stirred behind him, stroked a palm down his arm. "You think?"

Jared gave it a beat, and nodded. "Yeah. I do."

Jensen didn't really answer. He just buried his nose in the hair at Jared's nape and hummed.

 

Dr. Beaver and Professor McNally were waiting when their flight landed. They clapped Jared on the shoulder,  then pulled him in for a hug. "It's good to see you, boy," Beaver said, and Jared could have sworn there was a tear in his eye.

Beaver gave Jensen the stinkeye, though, until Jared leaned down to murmur, "Be nice," in his ear. Dr. B squinted up at him as though questioning Jared's sanity. But Jared just gave a little grin and said, "Long story."

"Uh huh," Beaver wasn't convinced.

The family and Jensen and Jared were booked into a nice motel near campus, and the department had even sprung for a rental car. Jensen handed the keys off to Gerry, and called to arrange another car for Jared and him. During the next few days, Jensen stopped at one point and took stock of the situation, and realized he felt like one of a gaggle of baby ducks following Jared around as he showed Jensen and his family over the campus, pointing out landmarks both well-known and personal, regaling them with tales of derring-do, and also, he had to admit, utter stupidity.

Jared was welcomed by faculty he'd worked with before, some of whom had been on the dig. They eyed Jensen suspiciously, but he merely smiled blandly in their direction and let Jared carry on. Beaver and McNally revealed that after they informed the faculty what had happened in Rirajistan, and their story had been backed up by other members of the expedition, Dr. Omundson had been "asked" to resign, and he had done so with no recommendation from the university. Apparently he was on the speaker's circuit, now, making money by telling about his expedition experiences, and writing a book about his academic career. Jared supposed it was punishment enough, but he refused to dwell on it.

Before they knew it, it was the day of the ceremony. Jared and his family and friends all celebrated him achieving his degree, and Jensen was included in the celebrations.

Jensen had watched as Jared's personality blossomed, and how eager and good he was at what he did. After seeing what Jared's life had been, and could be again, and comparing it with what it was and would be with Jensen in Umara, Jensen came to a very difficult decision.

 

"Hey." They were outside, under the stars, on side-by-side loungers by the Padaleckis' pool. Jensen reached for Jared's hand, and held it between both of his own. The last few days had been remarkable, just an amazing finale to these revelatory weeks he'd been allowed to live here, in Jared's home, as Jared's "friend."

Jared's head rolled toward him, his eyes gleamed in the starlight, and Jensen could see the dimples bracketing that glorious smile. "Hey back."

"I need to talk to you about something," Jensen began, and Jared took his hand back, and sat up, setting his feet on the concrete and facing Jensen.

"Is it time to go back?" The smile was gone, as if it had never been.

"Yes, it's getting very nearly time for me to return. But that isn't what I wanted to talk about." He sat up to face Jared, as well, and took his hand back, played with the fingers, stroked the palm as he talked. "I'm so glad we did this. I'm grateful you and your family let me into your life. I think I understand you now, in a way I never could have, if I hadn't come here, if you hadn't let me in."

Jared said nothing, waiting to hear Jensen talk. Jensen raised Jared's hand to his lips and kissed the palm. He rolled the fingers up to cover the kiss, and gave Jared back his hand. "I have a much better idea of how much I hurt you, of how much I took from you, when I decided I wanted you for my own. Seeing you here with your family, keeping strong relationships with your friends, working alongside people who are doing good for the community, teaching, reaching out. I can hardly understand how someone like you survived being a butterfly under glass, the way I kept you, the way I expected you to not only survive, but thrive. I hoped, in my ignorance, that what I gave you would be..." He stopped. Jared knew, he had lived it. There was no need for Jensen to define it. He had other duties.

"I can't expect you to come back with me to Umara. You would not survive there, I know this now. But Jared, you are still my mate." Jared's gaze sought his, now, unclear on Jensen's meaning. "There's more," Jensen continued. "I have obligations to my household. The omegas under my roof need care. It's my duty to see them through their heats, to support them, and any children of our unions."

Jared looked away, shaking his head. "It's our way, Jared. I can't just change that overnight. I do see where change is needed. But it's going to take more than me to make that happen. And it's going to take time. In the meantime, I have obligations, as I said."

Jared said nothing, just met Jensen's gaze with his own, and waited for him to continue. "You are unique. You're unlike any omega I ever met, or heard of. And I think, if I understand you, that you would not seek a mate bond with anyone, of your own will. Is this true?"

"You mean, would I decide to have sex with somebody? Move in with them and maybe get married? Is that what you mean?"

Jensen nodded. "More or less."

"Then, no. I don't have any wish to mate anybody. You know, the only way I did it before was when I was in heat, and Jensen," his gaze bored directly into Jensen's own. "I would rather die than go through heat again. I hated it." As Jensen flinched, Jared grabbed his hand to keep his attention. "No, listen to me. It wasn't you, it wasn't anything you did, it was _me,_ the way I'm made. You didn't understand, and I didn't know how to tell you, so I really don't blame you. But I do know now, that experiencing heat is something I never want to do again. And to answer your question, if 'mating' somebody else has anything to do with heats, I want no part of it."

Jensen nodded. "So here is how I see it. I will go back to Umara. I will fulfill my obligations as khan, including taking care of my omegas and our children. But Jared, I have met my mate. I feel the bond with you, and I will never have another. You will always be my mate. You understand?"

"I think so." Jared's nod was slow. "And I will never mate another," he felt out the idea. "So you will always be my only mate. Yes?"

"Yes, Jared. I think that's how it has to be. Can you live like this, mated, but apart?"

Jared gave him a long, assessing look. "Jensen, can you?" He stood, and paced along the pool edge, and back. "I mean, I'm where I'm happy, where I can do things, help people, work at what I'm good at. I'm going to be fine." He turned to the Khan of Umara. "But what about you? Will the other omegas be enough for you?"

Jensen stood, and came close, slipping both arms around Jared's waist. "I think that life will have to be enough for me," he smiled in the dark. "But if you are willing, I think I might manage to visit my mate, from time to time, three or four times a year, when things are quiet at home. Would that meet your approval?"

"And you'd keep in touch. Jensen, you have to get internet out there. You can't stay in the twentieth century forever. Satellite links, you know? We can Skype, and email." Jared laughed at Jensen's expression of resistance. He'd keep working on him. It would happen. "And I would love to have you visit, as often as you like. I've...kind of gotten used to this better, modern you."

Jensen squeezed his arms tighter, and then let go with a sigh. "Well, good." He reached into a pocket, and pulled something out between his finger and thumb. "Hold still."

Jared felt fingers at his throat, turning the collar, searching for..."Ah." There was a tiny click, and the collar came free. "Here, hold this."

The collar was in his hands, and Jensen was holding something up in the starlight. It gleamed narrow and gold, and fell like liquid through Jensen's fingers. "This is called, aptly enough, an omega link chain." He fastened the catch, and Jared felt the chain, cold, but quickly warming against his skin. "You and I know what it means," he said. "It's nobody else's business." He peered at Jared in the low light. "All right?"

Jared's fingertips ran along the chain; it felt like nothing, it was so light. He nodded, unable to speak.

Jensen smiled. "Good," he said. "But Jared, there's one other thing."

He hesitated so long Jared had to prompt him. "What? Is it something bad?"

Jensen shook his head, and resumed his seat on the lounger. "Come sit down."

Jared did so, and waited as patiently as he could.

"I've spoken to your mother, first, and then to both your parents," Jensen began, and Jared was suddenly uneasy. "They both agree the decision on this matter is yours."

"You're scaring me. What 'matter' are you talking about?"

"You told me, at the beginning, that you couldn't bond with Alec because his life was dictated before he was born, and you could never have a parent's relationship with him."

Jared nodded, and waited to hear the rest.

"What if you could?"

"What if I could what?"

"What if you could be Alec's parent? Raise him, teach him, decide where he goes to school, who his friends are, how his room is decorated...all those things a parent in this country does for his child, what if you could do that — be that, for Alec?"

"What are you saying to me?" Jared couldn't think, couldn't make sense of what Jensen was saying.

"Your parents would love to support you, if you decided to raise Alec here, as your son."

 

_fin_

 

 

**Hostage** _Epilogue_

 

Jared snuggled up close behind the Khan of Umara, cuddling his "little spoon."

Alec had fallen asleep, finally, in his room, Jared's old room. He was thrilled to see his papa, and couldn't wait to take the Umari carving to show and tell next week.

Jared stroked Jensen's hair back from his forehead, enjoying the closeness between them. He hoped it was enough for Jensen. "I do love you, you know," he murmured. "The best I can." He could feel the shift, and sense Jensen's smile.

Jensen raised Jared's hand to his lips and kissed his palm. "You know, I was the one who took you hostage, and though I know it caused you pain — and I'll always be sorry for that — for myself, I can't regret it." He pressed another kiss into Jared's palm. "It's you now, you and Alec, who hold my heart hostage, and I'll accept whatever you can give. Your best is good enough."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hostage**   
>  _Author Notes:_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Author notes: All honor and tribute to [](http://wendy.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://wendy.livejournal.com/)**wendy** , without whom this challenge would have crashed and burned long ago.  
>   
> Many thanks to my wonderful artist, [](http://chomaisky.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://chomaisky.livejournal.com/)**chomaisky**. She was on the concept like lightning, and her art is so incredibly evocative. Any time I ran out of inspiration, I just stared at it..  
>   
>  My heartfelt, eternal gratitude to my beta, [](http://sophiap.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://sophiap.livejournal.com/)**sophiap** for her tireless patience, her uncompromising demand for excellence, and her enthusiasm for this story and its often adrift writer. Her influence was immeasureable in getting this fic finished.  
>   
>  So many thanks to my amazing alpha/WIP reader, [](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/)**meus_venator** , who is also my tech-enabler beyond compare.  
> None of this was possible without you, you fabulous women.
> 
>  
> 
> **Comments are like fuel for the soul**  
> [My Live Journal Master Fic Post](http://fufaraw.livejournal.com/91948.html) ||   
> [ ** And here's the link to give my wonderful artist some love at her Art Post ** ](http://chomaisky.livejournal.com/60246.html)


End file.
